


Thinking of You

by smilyfryz



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: But yes- it gets soft, Coming Out, Dancing, Exes, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Ignores Orlando trade bc I have yet to process that trauma, Lesbian Sex, Light Dom/sub, NWSL, USWNT
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:08:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 61,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24501352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilyfryz/pseuds/smilyfryz
Summary: Rose forces Sonnett to strike back against her cheating ex, and it leads them down a slippery slope.
Relationships: Abby Dahlkemper/Kelley O'Hara, Rose Lavelle/Emily Sonnett, Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 209
Kudos: 395





	1. Take Ten, Last Take

“Readyyy?!” Rose asks excitedly.

“Fine,” I groan.

Rose holds up her phone, ready to record the action, and then grins stupidly as she presses play to start the music.

I really need to stop making bets with Rose. She always wins, and it always results in me having to do something ridiculous like perform an embarrassing dance Rose choreographed so she can post it for thousands of people to see. So much for maintaining a thread of dignity.

Not ten seconds in, the music suddenly stops as Rose seethes, “No, Son, what the hell are you doing? You're a step and a half behind.”

“What? Oh, my bad.” I apologize distractedly.

“Whatever, let's just go again,” Rose decides.

“Fine, take ten, last take,” I warn. I know I could easily get out of this if I simply tell Rose what happened earlier today. She would probably even feel bad and take me to get ice cream if I play my cards right. But that would involve talking about what happened, and I _really_ don't want to do that. So instead I'll just do Rose's stupid dance.

“Son!” Rose yells. She throws a shoe, which I dodge _thankfully._ Swear she's going to get the whole team booted from a hotel one of these times with all the racket she makes.

I look up from the shoe she threw at me and ask, “What now?”

“You literally didn't even move that time. What is going on with you?” Rose asks.

“Nothing,” I lie.

Rose sees right through it, “Really? Because I've seen better dancing out of a walrus. And I happen to know from personal experience you're a good dancer. So spill, now.”

The thing about Rose is she's a little scary, so when she catapults from her bed, tackles me backwards onto Mal's bed, and demands I tell her what's going on while straddling me, I cave. And sure, it's partially due to the fact that having Rose on top of me makes my heart race and palms sweat. But it's _mostly_ because Rose is scary. Also, big thanks to Mal for being out shopping instead of saving me.

“Okay! Okay! I'll tell you, just get off of me already,” I beg.

Rose cackles at how easy of a victory it is to make me talk and rolls off so that she's sitting beside me and dangling her feet off the edge of the bed.

I look over to send her an insult of some sort and knock her off her high horse, but I get too caught up in how blue her eyes are, so I quickly look down and fidget with my bracelet as I start to recount the conversation I had earlier today,

“So, uh, well Chelsea cheated on me. And we broke up.”

Rose's jaw drops, “What?! What the hell? You're kidding right now. Say you're kidding.”

I shake my head and quietly inform, “I'm not kidding, Rose.”

Rose's shock turns to fury, “What the fuck? With who?”

“Uh I guess it's someone that works at the hospital with her,” I explain.

“ _It's_ _?_ As in like something is _still_ going on with this person?” Rose asks.

“Seemed that way, yeah,” I confirm grimly.

Rose's face changes to that look she always gets when she has an idea. I cringe instinctively before she even speaks,

“Give me your phone.”

“What? No. Why?” I question.

“I want to see her,” Rose says, and I already know it will be trouble if she gets her way with this.

“I blocked her,” I lie again.

Unsurprisingly, Rose sees through it yet again and I'm oh-for-two, “No you didn't.”

“You don't know that,” I insist.

“Yes I do, this is you we're talking about. I'm going to guess that you thought about doing it, but then didn't want to do anything too harsh even though she's the one that cheated on you. Am I right?”

“Might be in the ballpark,” I admit. At the end of the day I just hate animosity and confrontation. I can't stand making a scene. Sure, I'll make a fool of myself and others in the name of fun, but when it comes to something serious in my personal life, I want to stay out of the limelight about it.

“Knew it, hand it over. Come on, I won't do anything,” Rose says innocently.

“You promise?” I ask and I eye her down so she knows I will be beyond pissed if she does do something.

“Yes, gosh don't you trust me?” Rose whines.

I hand over my phone and say, “No, not generally.”

She rolls her eyes but smiles while doing so. She loves messing with people, keeping everybody on their toes. But there's also that side of her that is serious, and loyal as hell, and that's the side I'm hoping is in control now that she has my phone and is aggressively scrolling through Instagram.

“THAT'S who she left you for?” Rose says in shock.

“Don't be mean,” I tell her, “It's not her fault Chels cheated, hell she might not even know that I exist.”

“I'm going to kill her,” Rose says suddenly.

I lean over and see that she's looking at the caption of the photo.

“'Happy one month baby, I love you', Gross, so she's been hooking up with this chic for weeks, only just told you today, and then already posted this bullshit? Wow, she's a fucking tool, Sonny, you're far better off without her,” Rose says seriously.

“Yeah, I gathered that much, I'll be fine,” I promise as I reach for my phone.

But Rose holds it out of reach, “Not so fast.”

I instantly frown and remind her, “You promised you wouldn't do anything.”

“And I'm not,” Rose assures, “ _We_ are going to do something. There's a difference.”

I gulp. I knew giving Rose my phone was a bad idea. It's _always_ a bad idea, for the record.


	2. The Counterattack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no stopping Rose once she's in the zone.

I look at Rose and say, “Let's let it go. I just want to move on.”

“Absolutely not, she does NOT get to cheat on you then blow up social media with her side ho turned main bae. No, we have to counterattack,” Rose is livid about this.

“Once again, let's try not to blame the 'side ho' for Chelsea cheating,” I point out. At the same time, I'm trying to hide my smile at how protective Rose is being. I know this is one of the ways she shows she cares: pure rage, that is.

Rose rolls her eyes and replies, “Whatever, point is, we're doing this.”

I know it's useless to argue, so I ask, “And what exactly are we doing?”

“Making a statement,” is all I get in reply. She's too busy scanning her surroundings. She's looking up at the ceiling, around at the walls, at herself, and then at me. It's terrifying.

Suddenly I'm being dragged to the other side of the room. “Stand here,” Roes says firmly.

I don't bother to reply, I know she's not listening. She's flipped my phone to camera and is standing next to me with the camera facing back towards us. Suddenly her arm is around my waist, her lips are pressed against my cheek, and she's clicking pictures.

“Rose, what the heck are you doing?” I ask as I flinch away. 

“Shh,” Rose hushes me without bothering to look over. She's focused on the practice shots. I sigh because I can already tell this is going to be a painful experience. At least she is too preoccupied to notice how red my face most definitely is right now.

“It's not good enough, even if I were to-” she trails off without completing her thought. 

She's slowly turning around while adjusting the camera angle as though testing where the most impactful shot will be. I wonder if maybe I can time an attack to snatch my phone back and flee to my own room. But before I can lunge into action, Rose's eyes are on me as she concludes, “It has to be a video.”

She walks up to me, assesses herself in the mirror I'm standing in front of, and appears to be satisfied after pulling her loose fitted crew neck sweater off one shoulder. I try not to gape at the newly exposed skin.

Finally, I get an explanation of the plan, “Okay, so here's what we're going to do. We'll stand here with our profiles to the mirror. I'll hold out the phone facing into the mirror so it will show us in the reflection. All you need to do is slowly approach me like you're going to kiss me. And then just before you're about to, I'll cut it. It will drive her absolutely crazy. It's perfect, artistic even.” She's got this satisfied grin on her face now, and I hate how cute I find it.

I remain silent while desperately trying to devise a way out of this, because the immediate issue is Rose's plan will drive me far crazier than it would drive Chelsea, who I really don't even care about driving crazy in the first place. I may or may not have had suspicions she's been cheating for the last couple months and just hadn't bothered to do anything about it. It has been much easier to ignore, for more reasons than one.

Thankfully, an excuse comes to mind, “No way, that's too much. I can't let you do that for me. Besides, I wouldn't want people to get the wrong idea about you or us if I were to post something like that for all to see.” It sounded pretty solid, it was focused more around her well-being and not my sheer terror at my attraction to Rose being exposed.

It does nothing to deter Rose, “We could just send it to Close Friends since you haven't blocked her. The team will know it's not for real, and Emma will just think you upgraded, she'll probably even send you a congratulatory text.”

She's smug, so damn smug, and it makes me want to shut her up. But I know better than to act on any of the options flashing through my mind right now. At least I removed Chelsea from my Close Friends list earlier today. I knew I had to do  _ something _ , I just didn't actively block her, it felt like admitting that she hurt me, that she wins. I'm definitely not going to tell Rose this, the last thing I want is to start a war with an ex. No, I'll survive this, somehow, and then it will be over.

“Yeah, okay, let's just get this over with,” I agree. Rose smiles, almost looking surprised I'm cooperating without making more of a fuss. I worry that maybe she's going to question further about whether Chelsea is in fact still on my Close Friends list, but she becomes too preoccupied with her plan.

She dives right into the role of Director, “Now, if you really want to mess with her, you need to be confident and just act like you've got it going on, it's all about creating a moment that evokes emotion. I'll play along, so just put on your sexy face.”

I laugh and ask “My what?”

Rose explains, “Your sexy face, think of it as the smirking face you make when you successfully pull off a prank and then think of how you would look at someone you want to bang it out with and combine the two faces.”

I have to ask for a repeat on the last bit, “Did you just say the words 'bang it out'? Who are you?”

Rose only shrugs and demands, “Less talking, more doing.”

“I'll try,” and it's the best I can do after hearing Rose say such things.

The first go is awful, and I'm instantly reprimanded, “Son, you're looking at me like I'm your sister, That's not going to make anyone jealous, just uncomfortable.”

I want to say something along the lines of, “Isn't it a good thing for a lesbian to look at their straight teammate and friend like a sister?” I'm also thankful she seems to have no idea just how much effort goes into conditioning myself to look at her that way.

Rose interrupts my thoughts, “Let's go, quit fooling around. The girls will be over in twenty for movie night.”

My pulse is racing, looking at Rose like I want her and leaning in to kiss her are the exact things I've been avoiding doing over the last couple months.

Although she probably misjudges the reason why, Rose can tell I'm nervous, “Okay, just close your eyes.”

I do, welcoming the escape, and she continues, “Now think of someone you find attractive.”

Oh no. Okay, it's fine, think of anyone else. Literally anyone. Think of, of – shit I'm totally blanking.

“Are you?” Rose asks. 

“Yep,” I assure nonchalantly. Only hearing Rose's voice locks me onto her even more. I can still fix this, there's Margot Robbie, or Mila Kunis, or-”

“Okay now picture how you'd look at them when you're about to devour them. Picture yourself moving in to kiss them right now,” Rose narrates.

And fuck, hearing Rose's voice is getting me all messed up. I keep picturing kissing her now. 

“Got it?” Rose asks.

“Yep,” I'm still aiming towards that nonchalance, but there's no way at least a tinge of panic isn't breaking through. Come on, focus, literally anyone else. There's Kelley. She's gay, and she's hot. Is she hot? I mean, objectively speaking, homegirl has it going on, but she's not my type. You know who is? Rose.

“Okay, now open your eyes and just do it to me instead,” Rose instructs.

I open my eyes hoping maybe I'll be able to better focus once I'm out of my head and taking in my surroundings again. Instead, I look directly into Rose's blue eyes and I'm instantly fucked. I glance down at her lips, and I want them against my own. I want to know what they feel like, what they taste like. I look back up to meet Rose's eyes, and I notice along the way that she's grinning back at me now. She nods the slightest bit, urging me on. 

And suddenly I'm slowly moving in, advancing on what I've been adamantly avoiding all this time. Our faces are now closer than they've ever been, and it has me noticing things I haven't allowed myself to notice before. Like how Rose's eyebrows are so nice, and how she has the tiniest, most adorable smile lines around her cheeks, and how she smells really good, and how her nose is infuriatingly perfect, and – well thank God those eyes are closing because I'd get too caught up in them and lose control. Except now my eyes are following suit, rendering me lost in the moment. I have no concept of how far away or close we are until I feel our lips meet. And shit Goddamn, Rose's lips feel like heaven.

Wait, what?! Our lips are touching? I was supposed to pull back at the last second. Fuckity fuck no, bad Sonnett, abort immediately! I instantly pull back, completely horror-struck, and ready to apologize profusely.

And then there's Rose's voice again, “Oh, oh, wow,” and she sounds more than a little amused by what transpired. 

Game over, she knows I'm into her, and she's going to give me hell for it. Here it comes. But she doesn't, “Not bad, Son.” Is she actually complimenting me right now?

I sound like a total moron as I try to cover my tracks, “Whoops, sorry. I got caught up in- you know, thinking about, uh, someone.” Smooth. Real smooth. 

Rose just smirks and replies, “Don't worry, I appreciate you finally putting in the effort and really getting into the role. Let's see it then.” She's clearly excited to watch whereas I'm petrified. If she couldn't tell live, she's going to know after watching.

I cover my face with my hand and watch through my spread fingers, ready to hide myself from the humiliation at the drop of a dime.

Rose leans into me so we can both see the screen, which doesn't help matters, and presses play. And there we are. I can tell the video starts when I had just opened my eyes. I look at Rose, I'm checking her out, rather, and she nods at me. It's sexy, almost like a challenge even, so that I'm answering her cue by leaning in. I definitely seem like I'm into it, but it doesn't come off completely one-sided like I was afraid it would. Which means Rose is _really_ good at acting. Just another one of her many talents, I suppose. 

Our lips are close, so close, and I start to worry the actual kiss will be caught on video. I do not need a record of that sort of embarrassment. But, thankfully, Rose cuts it off when there was still centimeters between us. And if I actually was trying to make someone jealous with this video, I'd be very happy with the results.

Now that the video's over, I feel Rose's presence along my side even more without the distraction of it playing. I realize I'm holding my breath and waiting for Rose's take on it all.

“Damn. Gotta say that's pretty hot. Wish someone would look at me that longingly,” Rose says. I expect her to laugh, but she almost sounds serious by the end of her statement. Still, I'm in a full panic now because I heard the word longingly, and that's never a good thing in situations like these.

Rose clears her throat and adds, “You know, and actually be thinking about me while they're doing it, I mean.”

I piggyback on Rose's statement, “Right yeah, because I wasn't, thinking of you. Obviously.” Oops, what was meant to be defensive comes off offensively.

Rose furrows her brow and then shoves at my shoulder as she scolds, “You're so rude. And to think I just did you a favor. But please tell me it wasn't Chels on your mind.”

I'm relieved to hear that's where her thoughts are leading her, but I try not to show it as I reply, “Oh no way, yeah I'm done with that.”

I feel Rose's hand on mine, and she squeezes lightly as she tells me, “Okay, good, because you deserve better. You know that, right?” I must be in disbelief because I find myself looking down towards our hands to make sure I'm not imagining things from earlier still.

Satisfied that her hand is in fact holding my own, I look up into Rose's sparkling blue eyes, and it scares me how much it feels like home, especially after hearing her say something like what she just said. 

My heart stops for a second when I see Rose look down at my lips, she's not even bothering to hide it. And then she smirks, and I don't know what to make of any of it. Until she's back to her usual abrasive self, “Okay time to post this bitch.”

“And done,” Rose confirms a moment later.

She hands me my phone back and concludes, “You're welcome.”

“Gee, thanks,” I sass back. 

Before things can turn into a full out verbal spar between us, I hear Mal's key in the door, “Hi babes, I'm back and bearing gifts!”

For reasons I do not understand, Rose winks at me before running to the door and grabbing the Thai takeout from Mal for closer inspection. There's other familiar voices in the hall, meaning the crew has arrived in full force for movie night.

“Sup, roomie?” I hear Kelley call at me.

And it's precisely then when it hits me that even though Rose didn't just send the video we made to my ex, she _did_ send it to everyone currently making their way into Rose's hotel room. Everyone I'm going to be around for the next couple weeks for the rest of camp.

Yeah, _thanks a lot_ , Rose. 


	3. Don't Worry, We Handled It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose 'helps' with crowd control while Son starts to spiral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments, much appreciated, and hope you continue to enjoy.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts and thanks for reading!

“Hey guys,” I say to the collective group of Kelley, Sam, Mal, Abby, and Lindsey.

It's chaos from the moment the door closes behind them, same as always. The furniture is quickly rearranged so that both beds are smashed together against each other and into the wall for optimal movie watching, there's boxes of takeout everywhere, a sea of shoes are scattered by the room door, and I'm feeling a little stuck. I'm not sure who has seen what nor of where I should sit now that people are starting to make their way over to the beds.

Except I quickly decide I need to be as far away from Rose as possible, and seats are actively being taken, so I dive into the spot next to Kelley along the opposite wall as Rose. Kelley assumes I'm just excited to bask in her glorious presence and says, “Aw Son, you missed me, didn't you?”

I'm totally fine with having a cover for my otherwise perceivably strange behavior, so I nod my adamant agreement and give her an obnoxious side hug. And if Abby weren't as cool as she is, she'd probably give me a look that says, “Back the hell off of my girlfriend.” But it's Abby, and she is that cool. She isn't the slightest bit bothered by my friendship with Kelley. She gives us a closemouthed smile while continuing to enjoy her Pad Thai. See? Completely unbothered.

We throw on an episode of Friends for while we eat, and then completely ignore it as we talk right over it the entire time.

Sam looks worried as she asks, “Crap, did anyone invite Tobes and Pressy?”

Mal is quick to reply, “Oh I asked them, but they're 'doing their own thing' tonight. AKA each other.” Everyone chuckles. We get it, they're obsessed with each other. It's kind of obnoxious, but also maybe a little adorable. We just don't tell them the second part because it's more fun to give them a hard time.

Lindsey sends me a look and I already know she's going to give me shit for bailing on shopping with her and the rest of the group to hang with Rose.

She asks, “So tell us, what was so damn important that made you two ditch on shopping with the coolest people you know?”

Called it.

Rose looks at me as she stalls on her reply, “Welllll,” and I immediately know she's checking in to determine which version of the truth to tell to the group. I know if I give the slightest nod against it, she'll cover for me. It's the same routine we pull when we are causing mischief.

That girl can stitch together cover lies like it's her job. She is the epitome of the perfect prankster, after all. I also know she's dying to spill about the Chelsea situation, so the fact that she's showing restraint to run it by me first is kind of sweet, actually.

In the end, I shrug my shoulders and allow her to continue. It's easier if everyone finds out about things from Rose. She sends me a small smile and then starts right in, “Okay so Chelsea is a cheating asswipe for starters. She's been dating some other chic for a month now, just told Son today, and then posted about the new relationship on social media right after.”

“What the actual fuck? She'd better hope I don't run into her when we're back in Portland,” Lindsey says and she's every bit as mad as Rose, except maybe even a little bit scarier if that is even possible.

Kelley speaks next, “Woah, Son, are you okay? Why didn't you tell us?”

Lindsey chimes in again, “Yeah why does Rose get to know first?” She doesn't sound angry with me, maybe a little hurt though.

I feel Rose looking at me again and I meet her eyes in search of help. She can tell having this conversation is the last thing I want to do right now, so she diverts attention back onto herself, “I know because I'm far more perceptive than the two of you combined and realized something was off so I forced her to tell me. And don't worry, we handled it.”

I brace myself because I can tell Lindsey is about to spew some wrath at Rose in reply, but then Mal pipes up, “Ohhh is _that_ what this is?”

I look over and realize she's playing the video of me and Rose to the group. Shit, here we go. God only knows how red my face is right now.

Lindsey cranes her neck away from Rose and over to Mal's phone, catching the tail end of the clip. She raises an eyebrow and asks, “What the heck is that?!”

Mal looks around at all the confused faces and gets super excited at realizing she's the first to see it. She informs, “Hello people, check your Insta!”

And suddenly the entire group is scrambling to grab their phones and pull up their Instagram accounts.

I must look as panicked as I feel because Rose quietly laughs at me like she's enjoying watching how uncomfortable I'm getting. After enough time passes for all to watch, a range of responses come flooding in.

Mal is simply chuckling in delight at watching everyone else's reactions.

Kelley asks, “What exactly is the point of this?”

I see Abby give her a look and then quietly explain Rose's tactics. Kelley might hang with, and date, the youngins, but she doesn't always understand how we operate. It's kind of endearing, and Abby is the perfect model of patience to fill in the gaps.

Lindsey is concise as always, “You guys are idiots.” She's not wrong.

Sam seems to nod in conclusion after a rewatch, “This is actually really well done.”

There's a 1,000% chance that Rose will only reply to Sam, I would bet on it. And actually win this time.

Rose gushes excitedly, “Isn't it fantastic?! It's all thanks to my superb directing skills, our lil Son didn't give me much to work with at first, but she finally got her shit together thankfully.”

Knew it. I want to remind Rose that I'm both a year older and a couple inches taller than her, so she should hardly refer to me as 'lil', but that would draw the group's attention back in my direction, so I let it go.

But wait, Rose is looking over at me again, and I don't like the expression on her face. It's got trouble written all over it. I know the look well, I'm just used to being on the delivering end with Rose and not the receiving end.

I don't have to wait long to find out what she's up to, “Anddd the best part is that she's already got her eye on someone else.”

Yup, now I'm in trouble.

Lindsey's _not_ happy with me, “What the hell Son? I go on one shopping trip without you and it's like I don't even know you anymore.”

Kelley is dramatically shaking her head at me in disappointment that I didn't tell her first per gay girl code.

Abby takes pity on me, “Lighten up guys, it's her news to share when she's ready. Isn't that right, Rose?” I always knew I liked Abby, that's defensive line loyalty right there.

Sam agrees, “Yeah, let's give her a break.”

Rose frowns at being called out and insists, “I don't know anything more, so I couldn't tell you if I wanted to. Which I do want to, by the way. “ Abby shakes her head at Rose but she's grinning as she does it.

“So... who is it?!” Mal asks innocently, and Abby throws her hands up in defeat. Thanks for trying, buddy.

“Yeah, who?” Lindsey demands.

Sam holds back on adding to the peer pressure, but I can tell she is curious by how she is pinching her bottom lip.

Mal is still swiping at her phone as she starts speculating, “Oh weren't you in Atlanta for a couple weeks last month?”

“Yeah,” I confirm.

“Interesting,” she says.

“What is?” Lindsey asks.

Mal holds up her phone as she replies, “Just how close Sonny is standing to this same girl in all her pictures.”

I start to laugh and quickly inform, “Oh no, no that's Emma's best friend. She's basically like my sister. Nothing going on there.”

I instantly kick myself for wasting a good dummy crush, but I can't stop myself from responding that way. Not after we drunkenly made out one time before passing out in the same bed, only to wake up and realize it was _super_ strange. Strange enough that it should never be spoken of again, especially in front of Emma. Wasn't going to break that pact today and let this conversation roll into yet another uncomfortable life moment of mine.

Mal must still be scrolling through my pictures, now with Lindsey and Sam leaning over to partake. I need to act fast and shut this down before things get even more out of hand. There's too many pictures of Rose and me on there. Eventually someone will make a stupid comment about us and I will go beet red and then everyone will know.

I refuse to look at Rose because I hate her right now, except not really, and announce, “You guys, it's nothing. Rose is blowing things out of proportion.”

“So there isn't anyone new?” Sam asks curiously.

I know Rose won't let me argue that point, so I go with, “Y'all are the worst. There's like zero chance they like me back, it's not even worth talking about it at this point. And if you guys agree to drop it, I promise I'll keep you informed if anything happens when I'm back home. Deal?”

See what I did there? I'm really hoping they'll just assume it's someone from Portland and let it go for now.

“Deal,” Rose jumps in, “We should probably start the movie anyways before it gets too late.” Oh, _now_ you want to help me again? This girl drives me insane sometimes. She has effectively finagled this entire conversation exactly how she wanted. I can tell by the satisfied smirk she is sending me right now.

I'm about to scowl at her when I hear Lindsey agree, “Fine, but you better keep us posted.” I breathe a sigh of relief, because I know if she agrees, the rest will fall in line. And they do.

“So I guess that brings us to deciding what we're watching tonight,” Sam says tentatively.

I couldn't care less what we watch, I'm just thankful to see everyone has shifted their focus off of me and into arguing over what movie to put on. Everyone but Kelley, I realize. She's still watching me with a twinkle in her eye, and it makes me think this might not be the last I hear on the matter yet. At least for now, she holds her tongue.

After a fifteen minute debate, we finally reach an agreement and start to watch Pretty Woman. Most of the lights are flipped off, and I am loving being out from under the microscope.

That is until ten minutes into the movie I feel eyes on me again. Dammit people, what now? I glance over to see Rose looking away from me.

A. Why is Rose looking at me? and B. Why is Rose looking away from me when I look back over at her? That makes no sense. Unless, oh boy, unless she is piecing things together from earlier and is just now realizing that I- fuck she's looking at me again, I can tell out of the corner of my eye. Okay, definitely do _not_ look over there again.

This is probably some weird test she's putting me through to see if I'm into her, and the correct response is most definitely to not look back. Yeah that's gotta be it, if I look back it will seal the deal and she'll know for sure. I will not give her that satisfaction.

I feel Rose looking at me off and on **,** and it makes me panic more and more with each passing moment. I must be aggressively bouncing my foot up and down, because suddenly Kelley has her hand firmly holding my leg in place as she leans over and asks, “Yo, are you good? You're shaking the entire bed with that nervous twitch of yours.”

Crap, I didn't realize I was doing that. I'm definitely not about to admit anything to Kelley that will make her more likely to bombard me later than she already is, so I simply try to silence her, “Shh, this is the best part.”

Kelley scrunches her face up and glances to the TV before replying, “The part where she's refused service on Rodeo Drive? That's messed up, dude.”

Fuck, and this is what I get for not paying attention, but I think quickly and assure, “Well it's not about it being the low point so much as it is the starting point of how she rises up after. Wouldn't you say?”

It's always best to go the philosophical route when trying to distract Kelley, she eats that shit up.

Kelley gives me a semi scrutinizing look before shrugging and concluding “That's deep, I dig it.”

I just smirk back as I tap my head indicating I'm a thinker, and stare back at the TV. In reality, I'm completely unraveling and it's likely only a matter of time until someone calls me out on it in a way I can't deflect.

I swear I see Kelley turn her head in Rose's direction before leaning back and linking her hand with Abby's. I wonder what made her look over there, but decide it's not worth the risk to investigate further.

Thankfully, I don't feel Rose's eyes on me for the rest of the movie, and afterwards people are ready to call it a night so we are rested for tomorrow. It's conditioning and agility training day, which means lots of sprints, lots of sadness, and sometimes a little bit of puking.

In my rush to get out of here and back to my own room, I inadvertently drop my phone down between the wall and the mattresses. It causes me to have to wait for everyone to get off of the beds so I can move the mattresses out and grab my phone. It lands me dead last to leave.

I hear the shuffling as everyone filters out into the hall. I hear the room door close. I hear Mal call goodnight to me and let Rose know she's going to shower before the bathroom door closes. So now Rose and I are alone, which is what I was trying to avoid by rushing out in the first place. Haste really does make waste.

I'm trying to avoid eye contact at all costs while I start moving the beds back to where they go. Rose joins in on my efforts on the opposite side. She doesn't say a word.

Once the beds are back in place, I grab my phone from the ground and finally glance over at Rose as I say, “Night,” before turning and speeding off to the door.

I slip into my sandals and open the door. I'm almost home free, but then I hear it, “Son, wait,” paired with a light tug on the sleeve of my hoodie. I turn back, keeping the door propped open as I reply, “What's up?”

“Night,” is all Rose says.

I give her what can only be a confused look because it's exactly how I feel.

“Is that it?” I ask because she looks like she's hesitating on something.

She proceeds to give me a quick hug, push me out into the hallway just hard enough to make me stumble, and smile at me as I struggle to regain my balance while the door closes between us.

“You okay there, killer?” I hear Kelley ask me.

I look over to find her and Abby, Kelley with her back against the hotel wall and her arms wrapped around Abby's waist. They look as though they were about to kiss goodnight, before I was catapulted out into the hallway and interrupted them.

“I'm fine. Sorry, Rose is just being a bully like always,” I explain. Kelley already knows I can be clumsy, so I feel the need to make it known that I'm not _that_ clumsy.

“Yeah well, I'd be more concerned if she wasn't,” Kelley replies with a smirk.

I hear Abby tell Kelley, “Night babe,” before turning to head off to her room. But Kelley is quick to pull her back in for that goodnight kiss, and I gotta say it's a pretty smooth move.

Abby is still grinning as she walks past me and says, “Night Son.”

I bid her goodnight and find myself wondering if Rose's equivalent of that adorable exchange would be startlingly similar to the hug and shove I just experienced. I shake the thought from my head and make my way towards the elevator with Kelley.

I decide to give her shit because I've taken my share of it for the night, “I still don't know how you landed that one by the way.”

Kelley only grins and replies, “I mean, have you seen my ass?”

I roll my eyes and confirm, “Yes Kelley, we've all seen your perfect ass.”

She laughs and says, “Okay just checking. But honestly, I have no idea either. I'm pretty lucky.”

I chuckle and nod in agreement. It's a good look for Kelley, being committed to someone she adores, and I'm really happy for her. Wouldn't hurt to find that for myself, but I'll get there eventually. Hopefully.

I'm feeling pretty good now that I'm out of Rose's room, and manage to even feel comfortable as I hit the 6th floor button and the elevator starts to move.

I soon realize Kelley has simply strategically waited for us to be alone before pressing me for more info, “So Son, I know that you know that I know from personal experience what a gay lady in distress looks and sounds like. And having been said distressed gay lady plenty of times, I'd like to think you'd let me repay the favor and be there for you. What Chels did is pretty shitty, I'm here if you need to talk about it.”

Damn, here we go again.“I know, thanks Kel, I'm okay though,” I try to sound convincing so she'll let it go.

“You sure?” she questions.

“I'm sure,” I respond.

She smiles and goes silent, but I have a feeling I'm not quite out of the woods yet.

That feeling is proved correct a moment later when Kelley continues on to other topics, “I also can spot a straight girl crush from a mile away and know how rough they are.”

Fuck, does she know I'm into Rose? I have to assume not and play it cool. It's _so_ Kelley's move to get you to admit something she doesn't actually know just by pretending she does already know it. Not today, Miss Kelley, “You sure about that? Pretty sure your 'straight girl crush' on Abby turned into a gay girl relationship last time I checked.”

She smirks because she knows it's a fair call out, “We both know I got lucky there, and that she wasn't my first straight girl crush. So come on, tell me what's going on, or else I'll just ask Rose because she clearly knows.”

I instantly panic, both at the thought of Kelley talking to Rose about my straight girl crush, which just so happens to be on Rose, and at the fact that Kelley thinks Rose already knows.

I have no choice but to double down and pray to God Kelley buys it, “Go ahead and ask Rose, she doesn't know anything else, otherwise you know she would have told the group already.”

Although, that's not necessarily the case. She could have realized that it's her, and decided to keep it to herself. I'll have to try and low key figure out if she actually knows.

Kelley frowns and I take that frustration as a good sign she's believing me. She confirms my hunch, “Fine, I guess I'll just have to figure it out myself then.”

Perfect, now I'll have Kelley on my tail all camp, but it's better than the alternative at least. I laugh and challenge her, “Welp, best of luck with that.”

She scowls and shakes her head. I'm relieved she doesn't know anything or seem suspicious of it being Rose. We'll see how long that lasts for.

Ten minutes later, I'm all cleaned up and lying in bed. Naturally, my mind is running in a zillion directions all at once. At least Kelley passes out pretty quickly, so I'm spared further interrogation from her.

After replaying the happenings of the night over in my head, I realize that even though Rose did cause me some trouble, she also handled everything for me to make it out mostly unscathed in the end. It would have sucked to have to talk to everyone individually about what happened with Chelsea. And then there was that hug. Even though the shove wasn't super comforting, the hug itself was cute and it felt like she was making an effort to make sure I'm okay in her own twisted way.

For some reason, I get the sudden urge to thank her for it, so I pick up my phone and text her:

_Sonnett: Thanks for helping with crowd control tn, even though you almost broke my ankle on my way out._

_Rose: Somebody has to keep you on your toes, might as well be me._

_Rose: And np, always got your back Em. Even if I do give you hell most of the time._

It makes me nervous just to read it, Rose calling me Em, because then I picture her saying it, and it almost doesn't fit unless she... but she couldn't. She's just being supportive. It doesn't mean anything.

_Sonnett: Likewise_

_Rose: Okay, good_

_Sonnett: Okay, night_

_Rose: k byeee!_

_Sonnett: more like k c u in 7 hours_

_Rose: gr8 AM (get it? bc breakfast is at 8?)_

I chuckle. Not bad, but I'll top her with a classic. She'll act like she hates it of course, but I'll know I win and sometimes that's the best you can do. Especially when it comes to Rose.

_Sonnett: That actually reminds me, did you hear that 7 ate 9? wild._

_Rose: Ew stop_

She's a total savage per usual, but despite her rude reply, I can confidently picture her smiling while lying in her bed. And it makes me smile in mine. Naturally, I have to be defiant and send something back. I'm tired and know that we will go back and forth all night if I'm not careful, so I just keep it short, the shortest actually.

_Sonnett: ._

_Rose: ._

Rose decides to reciprocate, and I'm not sure if she's treating it as a sign off or battling for the last word even when we are down to sending punctuation marks. Either way, it makes me laugh.

I set my alarm and put my phone down, only to receive another text. I wonder if Rose has another cheesy joke for me, but It's Emma this time.

_Emma: U & Rose? Thought you're dating what's her face. _

_Sonnett: Just a joke._

Emma has never liked Chelsea. Even after over a year of dating, she still avoids using her name as much as possible. I decide I'll tell her what happened with Chels soon, just not tonight. It will be an hour long conversation minimum.

_Emma: Figured, too bad though. I'd take Rose over Chelsea any day. Call when you can._

_Sonnett: Will do_

Ugh. Not helping, Emma. And of course she'll use Chelsea's name when it's to throw a dig.

I silence my phone now because I really can't handle any other communication today.

I close my eyes even thought I know that it's useless. I'm not going to fall asleep anytime soon. I decide to use the time to try and figure out when the hell this all started.

It's tricky to put my finger on exactly when it began, there wasn't some big incident that happened where afterwards I knew. Ever since I met Rose, I've been interested in her as a person. Between her creative playing style on the field to her intricate personality, it was like every layer I peeled back as I got to know Rose better had me more and more intrigued. Until eventually it was in more than just a friendly way. And when it did finally hit me that I'm attracted to Rose, it really got me good.

Suddenly Rose grabbing my hand when we were hiding in Lindsey's closet to scare her made me freeze to the point that I wasn't able to jump out and actually scare Lindsey when she walked in moments later. I just stayed in the closet on that one. Seems fitting when I think back on it now, actually.

Suddenly Rose falling asleep on my shoulder during bus rides started making me feel too close to her. Like I was doing something wrong just by sitting there.

Suddenly I had to start biting my tongue when Rose gets sassy, had to start watching my hands when Rose is near me, and had to start keeping my eyes laser-focused on the floor when Rose changes in my line of sight.

I hoped it would go away with distance, when she was in DC and I was back in Portland. It didn't. I tried not to talk to her as much, to not be as close of friends. I failed.

But I did succeed in respecting boundaries, so there's that. Well, until today at least.

Today got pretty dicey. Because before today I had Chelsea. And having a girlfriend when you're finding yourself becoming more and more attracted to one of your best, straightest friends is helpful. It's what allowed me to put this whole situation in a cute little box, wrap it in a pretty pink bow, and put it up in the tip top corner of my lesbian trauma closet up until now.

But now without that security of a relationship, God only knows what sort of clusterfuckery is waiting for me tomorrow. Or the next day, or whenever that little box comes clattering out of the closet and bursting open for all to see.

Because whatever this absurd situation is, it definitely _isn't_ handled.


	4. Science Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose starts to lean into her curiosity while Son continues to hold back... except maybe kinda slips up again.

I'm standing sandwiched between Lindsey and Kelley as we wait to deboard our flight to Tampa for the next leg of camp. Or _'same camp, different city'_ , as I like to say. I'll be here all week with my dad jokes, literally – we'll be in Tampa for a week.

I look across the aisle to see Rose turning around and peering back over her shoulder from two rows up. I quickly whip my head away and end up face-to-face with a startled looking Lindsey.

“What?” she wants to know the cause of my sudden head jerk.

“What?” I ask back, pretending that nothing abnormal transpired and Lindsey is the one being strange.

She rolls her eyes and changes topics, “So we're going out tonight, right?”

“Obviously,” Kelley replies over my shoulder before I can try to pull for a chill night.

They both look at me expectantly. “Maybe,” I reply, but I definitely intend to ditch.

That plan changes, however, once we arrive at the hotel and room assignments are announced. Yup, you guessed it, I'm rooming with Rose. Suddenly, going out is sounding like a great idea. Literally anywhere outside of my room sounds like a perfect place to be.

I throw my bags down on my bed and immediately inform Rose, “I'm going to chill at Lindsey's,” as I open the door to leave.

But Rose rushes out after me and explains, “Me too, well I'm going to hang with Sam. But same destination.”

Of course she is. “Fine,” I begrudgingly agree, and we head off to the elevator.

“You okay?” she asks, cutting into the silence filling the space between us save for the humming of the elevator as it descends to the third floor.

“Yeah, all good. It's just supposed to be a me and Lindsey hang. I'm still not completely out of the woods with her after bailing on shopping to hang with you, not to mention your lovely divulgence of all my recent life events that you happened to hear about before she did,” I send her a stern look as I continue, “and our chill sesh isn't going to have the intended impact if you walk in with me. Might even actively make things worse, actually.”

Rose scoffs and replies, “Okay, well I'm supposed to be meeting Sam. What do you want me to do, wait in the hallway for five minutes so we don't 'show up together'? I mean, God forbid.”

I quickly capitalize on the sarcastic suggestion, “Aww, would you? Thanks, Rose!” I know she wasn't actually offering, but it's worth a shot.

Rose pulls lightly at my wrist to turn me toward her as she counters, “How about we make a deal. I'll show up five minutes late if you tell me why you've been acting weird the last couple days. What do you say?”

“I haven't been acting weird,” I argue as I turn and continue walking down the hall.

“It's because of the kiss, isn't it?” Rose suggests as she takes a couple quick steps to catch up to me.

“What does the kiss have to do with anything?” I challenge, and I know I sound defensive.

“I don't know, you tell me,” Rose requests.

I stay silent. I've absolutely been acting weird, and I've been avoiding Rose whenever possible. I've been trying to be low key about it, with plausible excuses and cover stories ready to go at all times. But it's Rose, she was going to see through the act sooner or later.

Rose speaks again, “Look, I know it was a mistake and doesn't mean anything. You don't have to act all, I don't even know how you're acting to be honest. Just stop being weird.”

“I'm always weird. You know this, you're usually the one to make sure I'm aware of that fact if you recall,” I point out.

“Stop being _this type_ of weird then,” Rose clarifies as we reach Lindsey and Sam's room.

“Fine. Wait outside. Five minutes,” I instruct as I shoo her off so we won't be spotted together.

“Fine. Hurry up, I'm setting a timer,” Rose informs.

I raise my hand and am about to knock on the door, but I hold off as I turn back to Rose and ask, “It really didn't freak you out?”

“What? No, of course not,” Rose answers. She sounds sincere, and it's a good thing to hear her say.

“Okay,” I confirm my understanding.

Rose gives a small smile and nods before holding up her phone to show me her thumb hovering over the start button of a five minute timer, “I'm pressing start, so move along.”

I chuckle and knock.

**...**

We eventually end up at a cocktail bar nearby, because Sam played mediator and this was the compromise we landed on. Mal and Lindsey wanted dancing, and Kelley and I wanted a sports bar, whereas Rose and Abby were fine with either. It's interesting, the things Rose chooses to be particular over.

Some of the girls, aka everyone except me and Kelley, decide they want to get dolled up because we have been living in soccer clothes for most of camp. Which, I'm not complaining about, by the way. I've got on a button-up with black jeans, and even that feels strange.

I can only imagine how the ladies in heels feel. As we pull up and exit our team drop-off van. Kelley hops out of the front seat, opens the back door, extends an arm for Abby and they start to walk in together arm in arm. So stinkin cute.

I jump out next and wait for Lindsey, as I've decided this is still designated Lindsey time.

Sam and Lindsey step onto the sidewalk and don't need a helping hand, they weren't trying to deal with heels tonight. I turn to walk in with them, but then there's Mal and Rose getting out last. And I don't mean to stare at how good Rose looks in her black cocktail dress and heels, but I do.

Something in me, perhaps an upbringing that reinforced an incessant list of duties that come with upholding an aura of southern hospitality, compels me to extend both of my arms out to escort Mal and Rose into the bar.

They glance at each other and giggle before each looping an arm through mine. I can tell they're _loving_ this attention, and it cracks me up.

Once inside, Mal drops my arm and peels off to the bathroom with Sam. Rose, however, trails her hand down my arm and entwines our fingers.

“Uh, I should go find Lindsey,” I inform as I nervously glance at our newly linked hands.

“Okay, I guess you'll have to make time for me later then,” Rose replies.

“Is that so?” I challenge.

“Sure is, how else are we going to enact Phase 2?” Rose questions.

“Phase 2 of what?” I ask.

“Of our response to Chelsea,” Rose says it like it's obvious. Like I should have known there would be more. And to be fair, I probably should have prepared myself for this.

“No, Rose, absolutely not. It's done. I deleted her,” I'm not sure why I even bother trying to lie about this again, but I do.

“No you didn't,” Rose asserts.

“Okay I didn't, but I'm going to right now.” I take out my phone and rush to do just that before I can be forced into any other retaliatory actions that do more damage to myself than Chelsea. I show Rose my screen as proof.

Rose shrugs and says, “Too bad,” before walking off to join Sam and Mal on their way out of the bathroom without explaining further.

I'm left confused as to why Rose would be disappointed about me deleting Chelsea. Wasn't the whole point of all this for me to move on? Who knows with her, I decide not to let myself dwell on it.

I'm the last to join our team table, and I smile when I see Lindsey saved a seat for me.

She brightens when she sees me and calls, “Sonny, right here!” as she points to the empty chair.

I'm happy to be on the same side of the table as Rose with Mal between us. It helps limit the amount of times I can sneak in glances at her, glances that someone at the table, Kelley most likely, would pick up on.

The drinks are strong, so I cut myself off after two old fashioneds. Lindsey, Sam, and Mal go for a third drink, and I'm relieved when Rose sticks to two G&Ts. I quickly realize I shouldn't be monitoring her alcohol intake or concerned over it any more so than my other teammates and try to stop myself. It's just that she's tiny, and doesn't drink often, and I don't want her to feel sick tomorrow. Which she won't because she is smart and stopped at two. Dammit, I'm still thinking about this.

Thankfully, Lindsey pulls me out of my head and I chat with her for most of the remainder of our time at the bar.

**…**

Back at the hotel, the seven of us spill out of our Ubers and laugh way too loudly as we cross through the lobby and over to the elevator. Mal splits off first since she's on the first floor with Alyssa. The rest of us pile inside and it starts to move. First stop is the third floor and Lindsey says “See you in the morning,” to the group as she throws me a nod that lets me know I'm finally out of doghouse now that I've spent a substantial amount of quality time with her today. It's actually quite tiring really, being this popular. Don't worry I just rolled my eyes at myself too. Lindsey and Sam head out, and the elevator continues on to the the fourth floor, where Kelley and Abby step out. The doors close and we're moving again, except now it's just me and Rose, and my heart starts to race for no reason. Actually, there is a reason, and the reason is that I want to kiss Rose again.

I glance over at her, against my better judgment, and find that she's looking back at me. She flashes an almost shy smile and it has me instantly smiling back. Before either of us can say a word, the elevator opens on the eighth floor and we head over to to our room. God, just thinking of it as 'our room' gives me anxiety. But it's fine, we've shared a room before, and I can handle it again. Nothing but a head down, hands to yourself, and think before you speak situation. Of course I drop my key when I go to open the door, because it's me and life hates me. I hear Rose chuckling behind me as expected, and I wait for a snarky comment to follow as I hurry to grab my key and open the door. But it never comes, she's gone totally silent, in fact.

Sure that something must be wrong with Rose in order for her to not fire away and collect on the low hanging fruit, I spin back around to find her right behind me. And I mean _right_ behind me. She immediately bumps into and off of me. “Oh God, sorry,” I quickly apologize as Rose raises her eyebrows in surprise and stumbles backwards. I realize she overcompensated in trying to avoid our collision and is about to slam back into the closed door behind her, so I reach out and grasp her arm to pull her in towards me again. Curse you, Spidey like reflexes.

So now here we are, with our faces inches apart, my hand still wrapped around her forearm from where I helped stabilize her, and her hand grabbing at the shoulder of my other arm where she prevented herself from smacking back into me.

“S-Sorry,” I repeat, my eyes wide in horror.

“For catching me?” Rose asks as she blinks up at me, looking confused.

“Oh, uh, no. For startling you and bumping into you,” I clarify.

“You already apologized for that,” Rose points out, now smiling. And I know if I glance down for a closer look, I'll think to myself how beautiful her smile is, and I beg myself not to do just that. Because if I do that, there's a solid chance I'll do something else that I'm definitely not letting myself do.

“I guess I just really mean it then,” I try to joke, but I know I'm not funny.

“Guess so,” Rose says back, she's not kidding though. And the smile disappears, her brow furrows, and she looks at me in a way she hasn't before. Maybe it's the close proximity making her uncomfortable. Speaking of which, why are we still holding onto each other like this? She clearly has her footing figured out.

I immediately release Rose as though my touch has offended her and go to apologize yet again, but she beats me to it, “I swear if you say you're sorry one more time.”

She doesn't say how she would respond if I actually do say sorry again, and if I'm being honest I'd quite like to know. But I do well, especially considering my buzzed state, and bite my tongue. Another Rose related mystery left to be lost in the sands of time, I suppose. I instead reply, “Wasn't going to.”

She looks at me knowingly and it's becoming increasingly frustrating how well Rose can read me while remaining so unreadable herself. But man, so far I'm really killing it with the chill roommate vibe I've been going for, am I right?

I flee the scene and plop down onto the safe zone that is my bed before turning the TV on. “What do you want to watch?” I ask.

I'm met with no reply, and this time the silence is far more concerning than before when I thought that maybe Rose had collapsed in the hallway. Because this time, the silence is paired with Rose joining me on my bed. I try not to look like I'm panicking when I face her and give her a questioning look.

Rose looks like she's struggling to find words, and it is the strangest thing to see considering how quick-witted she is.

“Hi,” I stupidly say, as though I need to greet her now that she's on my personal island of the room even though we have been around each other all evening.

She grins at my ridiculousness but then proceeds to skip pleasantries altogether in typical Rose form, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” I reply, and my heart starts pounding so hard I wonder if Rose can hear it. She's going to ask me if I'm into her. _She knows_.

“What's it like?” Rose asks.

“What's what like?” I question, completely clueless. I'm mostly just relieved it has nothing to do with me and her.

“Being with a woman,” Rose clarifies.

“What?! Why do you want to know about that?” I ask in shock. This is not what I expected Rose to ask, not even close.

“I don't know. I guess I never really thought about it until you kissed me the other day. I had never kissed a girl before,” she calmly explains.

“And now I've accidentally corrupted you and you _are_ thinking about it?” I cringe.

Rose laughs and it makes me relax a bit. “Don't be dramatic. Come on, what's it like with Atlanta girl? You definitely didn't fool me with your 'she's like my sister' act. I mean, it's her, right? The one you're into.”

How does she always know which buttons to push and when? “You're something else,” I tell her.

She just smirks and waits expectantly for me to continue. I groan, “Ugh, if I tell you about her, you can't say anything to the team. I've had more than enough of your assaults for one camp.”

Rose nods and assures, “Okay. If you say something is off limits to the group, I'll keep it to myself.”

The moment suddenly feels soft between Rose's voice, her features, her posture, and her promise.

“I know,” I find myself quietly agreeing. Because I do know, if I hadn't nodded her on the other day, she wouldn't have said a word about my personal life at team movie night.

I continue, “So there's nothing going on between us, but we kind of drunkenly made out and slept in the same bed one time. I swear when we woke up it was like it took her a minute to realize she hadn't slept next to Emma, but her gay twin instead. And then her eyes went wide in panic when she remembered we made out. And then she made me swear to never tell anyone. Which I haven't until just now, so way to make me a liar. Anyways, just your typical tale of romance, really. I guess that doesn't answer your question of what it's like though, does it?”

“No, it doesn't, like at all, but it's a gem of a story that I'll treasure forever,” Rose says with a smirk.

I roll my eyes and continue, “I'm sure you will. And, well I guess it depends on who you ask, but if you're asking me, I'd say it's amazing.” I realize that describing in detail to Rose what it's like to be with a woman is the last thing I want to do, and she's definitely going to pry for more info, so I try to defer to Rose's judgment, “I mean, what did you think about kissing me?”

I instantly know it was a bad move, but curiosity got the better of me.

“Inconclusive,” Rose answers plainly.

I know I shouldn't bite, but I've already come this far, “How so?”

Rose replies matter-of-factly, “Any halfway decent scientist knows I'd need a larger sample size for an accurate conclusion.”

I'm quick to announce, “I hate science,” before putting together her implication, “Wait, I see, so what you're _really_ saying is I wasn't good enough for a final sign-off, isn't it?”

Rose pauses a moment before correcting me, “More like I wouldn't exactly mind if you kissed me again like you did the other day. You know, just for research.”

And there goes the intense heart pounding again. I stammer back, “W-what? Oh I, I don't know if that's a good idea. I wouldn't want to take advantage of our friendship like that.”

Rose lifts an eyebrow as she asks, “How are you taking advantage of anything if I'm the one asking you to let me experiment on you?”

I instantly kick myself for indirectly admitting I'm attracted to Rose, and try to recover, “Right, yeah. I didn't think of it that way.”

“So? Wouldn't be a big deal, right?” Rose questions.

I dive into an awkward rambling I'm not the least bit surprised by given the situation, “I guess not. I mean, there's no reason it would be a big deal for me if it's not a big deal for you. So if you don't think it's weird, I don't either.”

What else could I say? Rose would definitely know something is up if I refused.

And suddenly Rose is leaning in towards me as she says, “Okay good, come here then.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I quickly roll away and off the bed as Rose gives me a bewildered look.

There's that quirked brow again as she insists, “Seriously, if this is going to be weird for you, we don't have to do it.”

“Not weird!” I way overenthusiastically insist, “Just come here, but slow down for a second, gotta give a girl the chance to get ready. Sheesh.”

Rose stands up and steps closer, but then raises her hands in surrender so as to show me she won't move again until I say so. It's complete bullshit of course, I don't need to prepare to kiss Rose. I could do that on the drop of a dime. I could do that in my sleep, I've done that in my sleep actually. Very awkward dream to wake up from when I know I have to see her at practice that same day. Regardless, what I do need to prepare for is how the hell to play this situation cool.

Rose laughs and teases “Okay nerd, get your game face on or whatever you need to do there.” Her smile at the end almost doesn't match the statement though. Does she... find my spiraling cute? No, that can't be the case. Nobody could find this shit cute.

My mind continues to race in search of a way to depersonalize this as much as possible. And then it hits me, “You want it to be like the other day, right?”

“Yeah,” Rose admits.

Bingo.

It's finally my turn to smirk, because I'm going to have some fun with this part, “Okay then, close your eyes and think about someone you find attractive, someone that you want to _devour._ ”

Rose picks up on the fact that I'm mocking her narration from when we made my 'revenge video' the other day and sounds the slightest bit flustered as she claps back, “Shut up, Son.”

I recognize my victory by how she turns the slightest bit red in what I assume must be irritation, and ease up as I assure Rose, “No seriously do it, it works.”

Rose huffs but then finally closes her eyes.

“Are you?'” I quiz her the same way she did to me.

Rose shakes her head yes without uttering a word, and I'm not sure what to make of her being quiet right now when I usually can't get her to shut up.

I try to keep my voice even as I continue to question her, “Okay, and you're thinking about kissing them?”

Rose nods again. Still quiet as a mouse. What does that silence even mean?

Unsure of how else to stall, I conclude, “Okay good, open your eyes and do it to me instead.”

It's a strange experience, to both completely dread and deeply desire something at the same time.

I'm nervous to kiss Rose again, but I mean, she's straight, so she'll kiss me for a second and then start giggling and pull away. That's my official bet.

Yeah, I'll stand here and count to ten, and by then it will be over. Easy-peasy.

But then Rose opens those beautiful blue eyes and looks right into my own. And when she smiles, it feels like she's actually seeing me, and not whoever she's pretending I am.

It feels too real, and I know I have to keep perspective here so I can stay in better control this time. It's fine, I'll just count to ten and it's done.

_One. Two._

Rose realizes I'm definitely not moving a muscle, so she steps closer.

_Three._

She pauses and looks at me in a way that makes my stomach flip.

_Four._

She starts leaning in.

_Five._

I watch her eyes close.

_Six._

She's getting really close now.

_Seven._

Our lips are about to meet, but I pull back on a sudden instinct that tells me to toy with Rose a bit.

_Eight._

Rose opens her eyes and frowns slightly.

_Nine._

I quickly close the distance and kiss her right as she opens her mouth to protest.

_Ten._

I feel Rose's lips curl into a slight smile against mine. Somehow I knew she would enjoy the tease.

_Eleven._

Fine, I'll give her an extra second because I'm such a generous person.

_Twelve._

One more second is fine.

_Thirteen._

Okay, now I'm calling it.

I go to pull back, but then Rose has her hands on my neck and holds me close while deepening the kiss. And suddenly, I feel an overload of sensations when Rose's tongue brushes against my lips, as though asking for permission to go beyond them, while her hand finds its way under my shirt, and traces up my side. I am NOT ready for any of _that_ business, and I reflexively shudder.

Rose pulls back and looks concerned, or maybe she's just concentrating, hard to tell with her. Either way, I panic that she's going to call out my body's obvious response to her touch.

She holds a finger to her lip and muses, “Interesting.”

“What's interesting?” I ask.

“Sh, I'm analyzing,” Rose hurriedly hushes me. A moment later, she almost seems to reach a conclusion as she grins at me. Except then she sends me a contradictory look like she's not quite satisfied with something.

Out of nowhere, she grabs two fistfuls of my shirt by my shoulders and pulls me around to her other side so that I'm now standing between her and the bed. That is, until she pushes me backwards so that I'm sitting on the bed and looking up at her.

Needless to say, this has well exceeded my anticipated ten second scenario, but I'm having a hard time stopping things because I'm at a complete loss for words.

And when Rose steps closer and leans forward until she's kneeling over me, I know that I'm in trouble.

I feel her hand running softly through my hair and then a firm tug at the back of my head. She maintains a tight grip on my hair so that my face is kept angled up at her. It hurts a bit, and it's pretty hot, not gonna lie. She's watching my face and must be able to tell she's having the intended effect on me, because she flashes that damn satisfied smirk. And I can't help but smirk back because, hey, what can I say? I'm liking it.

And, honestly? I'm working pretty hard to resist the urge to top Rose, to show her right here and now that two can certainly play this game when I'm involved. Except I know I can't let myself get out of control, because this is Rose. She doesn't want me to top her, she wants to be able to say she made out with a girl for the next time the team plays Never Have I Ever, and that's it.

But damn, she certainly seems to be enjoying this. She's taking full advantage of my exposed neck and runs her fingers up and down before leaning in to place light kisses all over it. The contrast they carry to her rough hold on my hair starts to drive me crazy.

I'm also getting a hint of confirmation that maybe, just maybe, my suspicion that Rose can be a little wild when it comes to being physical with someone isn't completely off base. That is, when she does finally decide to let someone in. Still, it makes my breathing deepen further. It also makes me close my eyes and relax into letting Rose take control of the situation.

Despite my refusal to admit this outright to myself, much less anyone else, the contact is resonating in a way that's making it beyond clear this is what I want deep down. And then I feel Rose's tongue lightly trail it's way up my neck, finally leading into a nibble on my ear which again hurts a bit, but feels so good, especially in combination with feeling Rose's breath on me.

“God you're sexy,” I breathe the words more so than actively speak them, but that's because I only meant to think them, not whisper them.

I instantly recognize my error, and rip my eyes open as I gasp at unintentionally making the statement aloud. The sharp inhale while abruptly leaning back causes me to choke on my own saliva, which leads to an aggressive progression of coughing.

When I finally regain my composure, I conclude between periodic throat clears, “Okay, that's enough research for one day I think.”

“Did you just say I'm sexy?” Rose asks, fully ignoring my near death experience.

I'm quick to reply, “No, well yes. But that was just as an example of something someone might say when two girls are kissing, for your research.”

“So is that your go to line then or?” Rose teases.

I start spiraling right on par with my recent trend, “What? No! It's not.”

Rose makes a face like she's solving an equation, “Oh my God, you were getting super into it while thinking of the other girl from last time again weren't you? Is that the only way you can handle kissing me?”

I feel terrible for giving that impression so I quickly deny it, “No, no I really wasn't!” But then I realize I'm implying that because I wasn't thinking of someone else, I was in the moment and thinking of Rose all along. I feel caught, and I must look it too, because Rose quickly picks up on it. Thankfully, she misinterprets it.

“Wow, Son. I must say, pretty savage. Even for you.” Rose says sassily. She continues to feign offense, but it's clear now that she's mostly enjoying calling me out.

I wise up and reply, “Well, good thing this was an experiment with literally no feelings involved so, you're welcome for making it a believable experience.”

Rose only gives an amused smile in response, as though this entire ordeal is entertaining her.

“So, what do you think?” I ask, and I'm kicking myself again for asking another question I know I shouldn't. Curiosity and alcohol are definitely winning out today.

Rose plays dumb, “About what?”

See? Always pressing my buttons, this one. I decide I'm over it, “Nothing, never mind.”

Rose laughs because she knows she's being difficult and decides to go ahead and answer now, “I think that my research is still incomplete because _someone_ had a coughing fit. I'll have to finalize at a later date.”

She says it like she's been planning to answer my question all along but wanted to make me spell it out for fun. I shake my head at her and stalk off to get ready for bed.

I hear quiet chuckling as I walk away but refuse to engage. Someone has to be the bigger person.

Finally, I'm mostly hidden under the covers of my bed with every light in the room off except the bedlamp. I hear Rose opening the bathroom door and close my eyes, hoping she will assume I'm asleep. I only finished up a few minutes before her, but maybe I'm exhausted, I have been around her all day after all. And let me tell yah, it's a full time job.

It's quiet, too quiet.

Suddenly, I feel the covers being pulled back and the bed lightly adjusting to an additional occupant. Great, Rose just got into bed with me.

I open my eyes and lurch away as I demand an explanation, “What the hell, Rose?”

I'm hushed much like before while Rose processed the kiss, “Shh relax, part of the experiment.” With that, she reaches out, grabs my hand, and pulls me into her as she turns her back to me. My arm is now wrapped around Rose's waist with my front pressed tightly against Rose's back. And it is way too much for me.

“Ugh you're killing me, Lavelle,” I irritably inform. I use her last name because I desperately need this to feel less personal, and far less intimate, because I'm struggling so hard to keep it together right now.

“Night, Son,” Rose says pleasantly, her voice upbeat and unaffected by my complaint.

I simply shake my head in response, and even in the pitch black I can picture that damn grin she's probably wearing right now. One of these days I'm going to wipe it off her face. Just you wait. And when I do, she won't know what hit her.

Alas, that day is not today. And as for the here and now, I hate how much I like this feeling, how much I've craved this closeness, and how easily I could get used to this if given the chance.


	5. Over the Rainbow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An all out battle leads to an unexpected form of reconciliation.

I wake up super early the next morning, perhaps in part because I never fully fell into a deep sleep in the first place.

I carefully roll over in bed, and find Rose facing me, still fast asleep. She looks peaceful, beautiful. The sun is peaking in through the window behind her, thereby outlining her profile. And I have to wonder if even Mother Nature is taunting me over my attraction to Rose at this point. Wouldn't be surprised.

In looking at Rose's face, it occurs to me that she's so much softer than I allow myself to notice during the course of the day. I realize I'm reaching out to push a small section of hair off her cheek and behind her ear just in time, and successfully abort the mission before making contact.

I absolutely _cannot_ allow myself to become the creeper lesbian that strokes their straight friend's hair while they sleep, even if said straight friend _has_ been engaging in plenty of action when it comes to my hair as of late.

I become very aware that I need to leave the room, like posthaste, so I quietly creep out of bed, get dressed for practice in the bathroom, and head down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast.

It's entirely possible that I fall asleep at the table by leaning my side against the wall, because I don't even notice when Kelley sits down in the seat across from me. What does get my attention, is her loud ass voice informing me, “Wow, you look like shit.”

I jump in surprise, but relax when I realize I'm not in any immediate danger. I'm too tired for an eye roll, so I simply reply, “Yes, good morning to you as well,” as I rub at my eyes.

“Couldn't sleep?” Kelley guesses.

“Not much,” I confirm.

“Honestly, at this point it's probably better to opt for coffee and catch up on your Z's tonight,” Kelley advises.

“Probably right,” I agree.

And so, we each knock back two cups of Joe before the team's early birds, a group of which I am not normally a part of mind you, start to slowly trickle in. Abby joins us and provides welcome relief from Kelley's abundance of energy. I suspect she may have been forced out of bed earlier than she prefers by how she scans the nearly empty dining room and comments, “Well, good thing you rushed down here to save us a table, babe. Almost had to eat standing up.”

She's a keeper for sure.

I hardly pay attention to our ensuing conversation, I'm far too busy strategizing for when Rose comes to breakfast. We're sitting at a table for six, and there's three of us now, so it all depends on if Becky, Crystal, and Ali join to create a defensive team table as we sometimes do. On the other hand, if Lindsey and Mal sit here first, Rose will absolutely join us assuming she beats Sam. And actually, even if Sam gets here first, Rose would just pull up a chair and bully me into making space for her.

God I hope Becky is up early like usual. If even one of the other defenders join, the rest of the team will get the hint. It's like an unspoken defensive perimeter forms when the group gets together.

Turns out, Crystal is my favorite person ever because she's the next to sit at the table. Boom, safe zone established.

Sure enough, Sam and Lindsey stroll in soon after, exchange greetings with us, and start up a new table. I let out a breath of relief. I find myself desperately wanting some space from Rose, if only to give my mind a break from replaying all our recent interactions.

Even though I've been planning for Rose's arrival since I got down here, it happens upon me unexpectedly. I don't see her, or hear her for that matter.

But then Kelley nods and says, “Hey Rose.”

Fuck, if she's close enough to make Kelley say hi, it means she walked right past Lindsey and Sam's table because she came over here to-

“Why didn't you wait for me? We always go to breakfast together,” Rose questions.

Yup, there it is.

I handle it poorly, “We don't always do anything together. It would be weird if we _always_ did something together. We're two independent people who do different things sometimes.”

She is quick to respond, “Okay, well it's way too early to try and unpack all of whatever that was.” Even though I don't turn to fully face her, I can still see the circular hand motion she makes as she says it, like she's zeroing in on all of my crazy. “I'm sitting with Lindsey and Sam,” she finishes.

“Do whatever you want, don't need to tell me about your plans,” I reply. And I grimace at myself as much as Kelley does.

This time I do look over at Rose, because I want to send a nonverbal apology for being a complete dickhead. But I don't get the chance before Rose scowls at me and storms off.

I watch over my shoulder and see Rose angrily plop herself into the seat next to Sam before spinning back to face my table again. Kelley raises an eyebrow at my bizarre behavior.

I quickly shake my head at her as a warning not to go there.

It's Crystal who finally speaks when she asks, “Do I even want to know the root cause of that exchange?”

I'm quick to advise against it, “No, you really don't.”

Crystal nods and concludes, “Then I won't ask.”

“Thank you,” I respond.

She'll just assume we're bickering again hopefully. There's always a pair of roommates currently on the outs, it comes with the territory of playing together, traveling together, and living together for weeks on end.

I float my way through the rest of the meal until it's time to head off to the practice fields.

The dining room starts to clear out, and I make to follow the crowd towards the hotel's front entrance, but Kelley calls after me, “Son, hold on a second. I want to show you something.”

Abby turns back to wait for us, but Kelley says, “Go ahead, babe, and save me a seat please!”

“Maybe,” Abby grins her reply, and it makes Kelley chuckle.

Left alone, I ask Kelley, “What do you want to show me?”

Kelley quickly waves me off, “Oh never mind, I forgot my new cleats in my room. I'll have to show you tomorrow. But while I've got you here, any progress on that crush of yours?”

I give her an annoyed look, because I'm fully aware there are no new cleats to show. She just wanted to get me alone to pester me.

“I don't have a crush,” I deny.

Kelley laughs and disagrees, “Pretty sure you do though.”

I decide that if Kelley wants to cause a scene over this, I'll give her a scene, “For the thousandth time, Kelley, I'm just not into you like that. And no, I won't hook up with you. So don't even ask. No means no.”

She laughs at me, completely unfazed, then smirks as she skillfully counters, “You wish we would. No, I'm talking about your crush on Rose.”

Fuck.

“What are you talking about? That's not a thing.” I insist.

Kelley opens her mouth to argue back, but is cut off, “O'Hara, Sonnett, let's go. Team is waiting on you.”

“Coming!” we reply in unison.

Kelley whispers, “Saved by the bus, but feel free to let me know when this completely blows up in your face.”

Who's to say that it hasn't already? At a minimum, I'm well on my way. Definitely not admitting that to Kelley though.

Practice starts off with a warm-up run and stretches. Rose refuses to look at me the entire time.

We do a few individual drills with the ball, and then it's time for 1v1s, so the team starts splitting off to match defenders with attacking players. Suddenly Rose has her hand wrapped firmly around my elbow and is dragging me to the closest coned off square. She still doesn't say a word, and something tells me it's best if I don't either.

The drill is simple. We each start at opposite end lines of our squared area. At the sound of the whistle, the attacking player advances, attempts to beat the defending player, and gains a point if they cross the defender's line before the next whistle, which announces the end of the round. If they fail to cross the line, the defender gets a point. Losers do extra laps at the end of practice.

We do this drill all the time, I've even gone against Rose several times before, but this time feels different. Rose looks so eager to start the first round, and that can't be a good thing.

When the whistle sounds, she comes at me full speed, and I'm caught on my heels. She knocks me backwards, and I land square on my ass while Rose breezes by for an easy opening point. I stand up and lightly slap myself in the face to get in the zone. Rose seems to be out for blood this morning.

Rose lines back up for the next round, and I stare at the ground because it's less awkward than looking directly at her after how I acted earlier. But my attention is drawn upwards when she snarls, “Come on, Son, wake up! What, didn't you get your coffee this morning? Or did you not feel like waiting for that either?”

Ah, so this _is_ payback for earlier. Can't say it's undeserved, best I can do is survive it. Not sure of what else to say, I quietly inform, “I did have coffee this morning, it was just before you were awake.”

I mean it as a hint that I didn't sleep well, that I wasn't exactly in the best frame of mind earlier when she came over to my table looking for answers.

Unfortunately, Rose seems to take it more like I'm insulting her for sleeping in, insinuating that she's lazy even, and that's when I know this is going to get ugly. It's not like I can just go easy either, we don't do that here on the USWNT. No, we go hard AF.

I win the next point with a strong slide tackle, blasting the ball across the field.

We're back to silence in between rounds and I'm thankful for somehow managing to keep the score close through the first few face offs.

But Rose simply doesn't tire, or if she does, she doesn't show it. And I don't know if it's because she hates me right now, or because she's extremely fit, or a dangerous combination of the two. Regardless, she starts to wear me down, especially after not getting much rest last night.

During the next round, Roes goes with a scissors step with her right foot. I read her next move as pushing the ball out to her left side. And when she does, I step to close with the element of surprise in my favor at having read her thought process.

Except then I realize she's just baiting me. She uses the outside of her right foot to lightly tap the ball through my legs, and then quickly changes direction to navigate around me and link up with the ball behind me.

Shit, I just got nutmegged. But wait, there's still time for damage control. I know that I won't soon hear the end of it if Rose closes this move by settling the ball behind me and scores the point for this round. And it's that knowledge which directly translates into the intensity at which I grab Rose's waist to prevent her from reaching the ball as I say “Oh no you don't.”

Rose quickly grows irritated and protests, “Okay, yellow card much?”

She struggles for a couple moments then stops trying to progress forward, so I lighten my hold on her hips.

As soon as she feels me do so, Rose starts to press forward again, to which I respond by wrapping her in a full bear hug.

She stops fighting again, and instead turns into me and shoves me backwards. I lose my balance and can tell I'm going to fall. I quickly decide that if I'm going down, Rose is going down with me. I am NOT giving up this point and dealing with her resulting smugness. I've got enough going on in that department as it is.

“Son!!” Rose yells at me in surprise as she topples forward, landing directly on top of me.

Her eyes meet mine, and I watch as her gaze transitions from surprise to irritation as she informs, “And that's a red card now for sure.”

“I don't see a ref around here, do you?” I counter.

In a strange turn of events, I see the corner of her mouth tick up. I smile back, and moments later we are full out cackling with laughter on the ground.

We only get up when we hear the whistle signaling the end of the round.

Of course Kelley is watching me with her head tilted to the side as I stand up. She shakes her head at me when she realizes I'm looking over, and I know she's onto me.

We line back up for the next round, and Rose decides, “I still get the point.”

I quickly disagree with her, “You definitely do not, that ball never crossed my line.”

Rose smirks at me and quietly teases, “Fine then, I'm still winning anyways. You couldn't wait to get me on top of you again though, could you?

I'm easily flustered by it and start to argue, “That's not-” before changing courses and focusing on the score, “You're only up by one.”

I'm peeved now. I focus up and shut her down for real on the next play.

Back on her line, Rose chuckles and says “There you go, see? Knew you could do it fair and square, just needed some motivation”

I feel compelled to let Rose know, “I hate you.”

“No, you don't,” Rose confidently responds.

And we both know she's right.

The next couple rounds aren't overly traumatic. We do bang our knees together though, and argue over whose fault it was and whose bruise will be bigger.

Rose finally seems to be growing a bit tired, and both of us are breathing heavy and wiping sweat from our faces as we get set for the next go.

Rose decides to start off with a heavy touch to her right.

Bad move, she's cornering herself. I quickly advance forward to close the space between us so as to shut down her channels.

What I fail to realize, is this is exactly what Rose wants.

She only needs a little space in front of me to pull off her plan. The space she needs is behind me, the space I'm readily providing by stepping to close on her.

Rose times it perfectly, rolling the ball behind her, pulling it up the back of her left leg and then heeling it up into the air. I watch helplessly as it soars right over my head. She's somehow around me and trapping the ball right on the line I'm supposed to be preventing her from reaching before I can even react. It feels symbolic of our broader relationship dynamic as of late, and I don't enjoy the visual reminder of it one bit.

As if this wasn't already infuriating enough without any known witnesses, matters are made worse when Mal starts to applaud and says,”Nice one, Rose.”

Lindsey chortles and adds, “Ouch, Son, better luck next time buddy.”

Did everyone just witness this go down? I throw up my hands in defeat and I'm about to just walk off the field for the day, but thankfully I hear a double whistle, which means it's time for our next water break.

I jog off to the side of the field without looking back at Rose.

Lindsey shows up next to me and wraps an arm around me. Sam arrives next and wants to know what all the commotion was about.

“Sonny got rainbowed,” Lindsey explains as she gives my shoulder a consolatory squeeze before releasing me.

“Oh, I see, sorry Son,” Sam says.

Rose appears on my other side and tries to give me a fist bump as she says, “Good match.”

It seems innocent enough, and even pleasant considering how annoyed she was at me earlier, but I know better. She'll have something up her sleeve and I'm not falling for it after getting faked out so badly during the drill just now. I push her arm away and demand, “Leave me alone.”

Rose shrugs before replying, “Fine, be a baby about it then,” and walking off, causing me to realize she was being genuine.

Whoops. Well, I guess that's what happens when you act like a sarcastic brat 99% of the time, people aren't going to be able to distinguish that 1% you decide not to mess with them.

Between that, being sleep deprived, having an overly competitive attitude when it comes to soccer, and the rapid onset of a major caffeine crash, it's really not my fault here, people.

We switch to a full field scrimmage next, and Abby lightly shoulder bumps me on our way back out to the field as she reassures me, “ Don't get down on yourself, Son. Between Tobin, Pinoe, and Rose, we've all been there. It's part of playing with the best of the best – both a blessing and a curse.”

“Thanks, Abby,” I reply, and I mean it. She's so good at keeping her cool and playing with composure, it's part of what makes her an amazing Center Defender.

I know she's right, and I know I should let it go, but I can't quite shake the frustration off. And it definitely impacts my game the rest of practice.

The laps at the end don't help either. Rose lines up next to me without saying a word and proceeds to run with us. And even though it's a strong sign of her sportsmanship, it only irritates me further.

I mean, I'm the gay one here, and rainbows are supposed to by _my_ thing. But now, Rose has managed to flip my entire world upside down and effectively ruin even the homo symbol of hope for me.

After some stretches, I take a quick shower, throw on a fresh set of clothes, and board the bus to head back to the hotel.

Lindsey is about to sit down next to me, but Rose comes up behind her and pulls the back of her shirt to create a gap, allowing her to cut right in and sit next to me. Sometimes I wonder if she realizes how tiny she is and that Lindsey could break her entire body if she wanted to.

She looks up at Lindsey, who seems to comprehend the situation as she nods and says, “See you guys back at the hotel.”

I've had my headphones on throughout, and rush to stare out the window when Rose shifts her attention from Lindsey to me.

I soon feel Rose's index finger run along my forearm, trying to get my attention. And if I'm being honest, this is the side of Rose that makes her so irresistible. Sure, she will push and prod relentlessly, but when she can tell that someone she cares about is upset, she works to make it right.

I know I'm the one who has been a jerk today, I know Rose didn't do anything wrong by trying to beat me during 1v1s considering that's kind of the point of doing them, I know Rose is being the bigger person, I know she's trying to show me she cares because if she didn't, I know she sure as hell wouldn't be sitting here trying to check on me like she is right now.

But I can't lean into it. It all makes me feel more out of control, more confused about what is, or is not, going on between us.

So I move away, crossing my arms as I lean against the side of the bus, never averting my gaze from looking out the window.

She retracts her hand, doesn't wait for me when we arrive back at the hotel, and heads off to Mal's room with her while I head up to ours.

I pass out for a solid hour, which does wonders for me, only waking up when I hear the room door close.

The TV is still on from earlier, and I pretend to be extremely interested in the car ad commercial flashing across the screen so I don't have to look at Rose when she enters into view.

“Hey,” she says lightly as she crosses the room and sits on the bed by me.

I nod without saying a word, and it proves to push Rose past her limit, “Okay, Son, stop being like this, you played well today. Also, you were the one who was rude to me this morning, so I'm really not sure why you're acting like I'm the bad guy here.”

I partake in selective hearing and reply accordingly, “You destroyed me at least half the time in 1v1s. Would hardly call that playing well.”

Rose is quick to point out, “Which means you stuffed me the other half of the time, and yet you don't see me throwing a fit, do you?”

I frown at her and explain “That's not the point. And it's not the same, when I stop you it's not humiliating like when you beat me.”

Rose disagrees, “Pretty sure any midfielder and forward would tell you its plenty humiliating to get stripped of the ball.”

I ignore the validity of her statement and press on, “Whatever, people didn't give you hell over the points you lost, did they?”

Rose lets out a frustrated breath and decides, “You know what? I'm not dealing with this the rest of the day. So figure out what you need to do to move past it and get there, fast.”

After a pause, Rose continues, “Unless... you're acting like this because you want me to make it up to you?”

I respond before thinking, completely missing the change in Rose's tone hinting at where she's heading with the statement, “I absolutely want you to make it up to me... by never megging or rainbowing me again.”

Rose smiles before continuing, “We both know I'll never agree to that, but I can think of another way to make it up to you.”

“Ice cream?” I suggest.

“Nope,” Rose replies.

“Being nice to me for an entire day?” I offer.

Rose smirks and says, “No way, it's too much fun to mess with you.”

“How then?” I ask.

Rose takes her time answering and draws her words out as though deciding on the fly,

“Hmm...”

She shifts her body so that she's facing me straight on,

“Maybe...”

What is she doing right now? Why is she moving closer?

“Like...”

Is she about to...? No that can't be what's going on.

“This...?”

Ohp, nope it definitely is.

I lean back just before our lips are about to meet and ask, “Rose, what are you doing?”

I feel Rose's hand on my arm again as she calmly responds, “Em, stop, let me make it up to you.”

She smirks and adds, “You can even think about Miss Atlanta or your mystery woman to make it better for you.”

She goes as far as throwing in a wink at the end for good measure, but it almost goes unnoticed. I'm caught up on Rose calling me Em again. And it does something to me, it finally seems to break through the stubbornness I've been exhibiting all day.

I find myself apologizing, “I'm sorry about this morning.”

Rose smiles and quietly says, “I know.”

“And for being a jerk about practice,” I add.

“Okay,” she accepts, and then adds, “Can I kiss you now?”

I nod yes, and pull her into me, pressing our lips together. I already know I couldn't think of anyone other than Rose if I try to. So I don't try, and I don't think. I just do.

I instantly notice that this kiss is different. We have a foundation now, a bit of familiarity physically. And this time, when Rose brushes her tongue against my lips, I open my mouth and confidently meet it with my own.

Rose lets out a short breath at the new type of contact between us, and suddenly I'm finding myself having to hold back from taking things further. I run our tongues together and then bite at Rose's lower lip.

Rose responds by pushing me backwards and climbing on top of me before resuming our kiss. I allow it, but I decide to give Rose a taste of her own medicine and run my hand up the center of her chest, along her neck, against the side of her head and then close it into a fistful of her hair.

She moans softly, muffled further by our kiss, but it's just audible enough for me to hear it, and it's music to my ears. Also - yeah, that's what I thought, Rose.

However, I quickly release my hold when I feel Rose start to pull back. She looks off for a fraction of a second, is she maybe surprised, embarrassed? I don't get a long enough look to be sure before she's back to her cocky self as she smirks and asks, “Better?”

“Maybe marginally,” I respond, trying to keep a level voice and straight face. Except a smile breaks through and betrays me.

Rose reciprocates with a grin of her own, acknowledging her recognition that her efforts worked, but her words play along with mine, “Alright, well I guess I'll have to step it up next time to meet your standards.”

She stands and then pulls me up after her as my mind starts to run wild in usual Sonnett form.

Next time??? Since when is this a thing we do?

I'm trying to act aloof because that feels like the right play here, but I can't stop myself from asking Rose what she means, “Now when you say next time, are you talking about the next time you wreck me in 1v1s? Because honestly, if it's my choice, I'll have to weigh out my options – I definitely don't mind the kissing, but practice was pretty brutal.”

Rose chuckles and then teases, “Aw Son, you know you were actually being cool for a second there?”

I'm not going to get an answer on that one, am I?

Rose smirks, grabs my hand, and pulls me out of our room, “Come on let's go grab food. People are meeting in the lobby in 5.”

“How do you know that?” I ask.

Rose holds up her phone and explains, “Group chat, maybe if you did less sulking and more paying attention, you would know too.”

“Be careful, if that's how you're going to react, I'll start sulking all day every day,” I warn.

Whoops, I definitely shouldn't have said that, but it makes Rose smile. So it couldn't have been that bad, right?

But then Rose interlaces our fingers, and the more pressing question becomes: what is my life right now?

And suddenly, I feel the need to seek counsel. While it pains me to admit it, I know what I have to do.

As soon as we're seated for dinner, I discreetly text Kelley.

Sonnett: Need to talk asap, have a gardening emergency.  
  


Kelley's too busy flirting with Abby across from me to notice her phone vibrate, so I kick her under the table and nod at her phone once I get her attention. She reads my message, looks at me like I've completely lost my mind, and then texts me back.

Kel: ???

I send her a single rose emoji, knowing it will be sufficient. I don't let myself look back over at Kelley, because I don't want to draw attention to the fact that we're texting each other from across the table. I feel my phone go off in my pocket and instantly check what Kelley sent.

Kel: I FUCKING KNEW IT!!

Kel: Stop by later to discuss.

I send a thumbs up emoji back, and feel a bit more at ease. If there's anyone who can help me navigate a situation like this, it's Miss Kelley.


	6. Whoops, There It Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An accidental advance leads to an honest conversation.

I head over to Lindsey and Sam's straight from talking in Kelley's room. I'm riding solo because Kelley and Abby decided they're “tired”.

Yeah, sure guys.

Not going to lie, I expected more from the self-proclaimed Woman Whisperer. All she really did was insist that I “pay attention to the signs”, and complain that I wasn't giving her enough to go on.

She kept saying things like “Sure that's what her mouth said, but what did her eyes say?” and asking for excessive details about Rose's body language during our recent encounters, which I have been far too preoccupied to notice.

She did, however, inform me that I “shouldn't assume anyone is straight because half the time people aren't even sure themselves” and that if I “get my shit together and start noticing essential details,” she'll be happy to help me out.

Until then, and even then, most likely, I'm essentially screwed. For example, tonight's supposed to be a chill team night, and Rose will most likely be there. Which means I will make it awkward, and probably embarrass myself at least once. But you know what? It's not honestly all that different from a normal day for me, and as long as people don't know _why_ I'm being extra awkward, I'm good with that. I can't avoid the situation all camp, especially because I'm sharing a room with Rose. So I'm guaranteed to run into her at some point, at least for now there's other people to distract me from her.

Except, when I arrive, I'm quick to notice that Rose isn't there. I don't dare to ask where she's at, the less her name comes out of my mouth these days, the better. Plus, the room is dark and the team is about halfway into Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Despite lacking Rose, the room is crowded, and I see that Tobes and Pressy joined us this week as well as Alyssa, Andi, Becky, Crystal, and Ertz.

Tobin and Christen are cuddled up into each other, looking perfect together as always. And just when I thought I _wasn't_ going to have to endure an adorable lesbian couple being in my face all night. Oh well.

The team has set up our standard bed fort, but it's looking pretty crammed this time, so I pass on it and head over to the empty chair on the far side of the room.

Seriously though, where's Rose? This is one of her favorite movies. She's completely obsessed with the concept that dogs could actually all be humans undercover like Sirius. Yeah, it's a smile and nod situation for sure. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm not really sure who else would have pushed hard enough to get this put on if it wasn't Rose.

I decide I wouldn't be thinking this in depth about what another teammate was doing if they weren't here, so I shouldn't be for Rose either. I try to focus on the movie, and I'm at least partially successful.

However, my question is answered ten minutes later when I hear a knock on the door and Mal scoffs, “Finally.”

She answers the door and scolds Rose, “Where have you been? You've been gone almost an hour.”

Rose casually strolls by, wrapped in the cozy pink blanket she always brings to camps, and explains, “Okay, well I was FaceTiming Wilma, and she's going through a lot right now. I couldn't just rush off until I knew she was going to be okay when we hung up.”

And I hate how I have to turn my head away to hide the smile that pops up after hearing her say it. It's _so_ Rose to fight for a Harry Potter movie to be put on, only to miss half of it so she can “video chat” with her dog.

But then there's a thud against my chair, and I look back over to find that Rose has lightly kicked it.

“Yes?” I ask.

“That's my seat,” she informs.

I decide, “It was empty when I got here so... looks like it's mine now.”

Rose peers back around at the packed beds behind her, and I can already tell you there's no way she's going to deal with that.

She faces me again and starts to shoo me to the side as she demands, “Move over.”

I use my hands to indicate the lack of space and ask, “To where?”

This chair definitely isn't meant for two people, but Rose still tries to sit beside me, and it's ridiculously uncomfortable.

“Okay no, you're too bony. You gotta go,” I conclude.

She gives me an annoyed look, and then says, “Fine,” as she turns into me and drapes her legs over my lap. “How's this?” she asks afterwards.

And, well, that's a loaded question if I've ever heard one.

“It's fine I guess,” I reply, but I cross my arms to avoid touching her legs. There's already more than enough body contact between us as it is.

She smirks and I wait for a snide comment, but it seems she holds back. Apparently now I've earned half of the blanket though, so I do get that. But more realistically, she just wanted to cover her own legs, and my being covered up is merely a byproduct.

Between sitting with my arms crossed for far too long and the fact that I'm sitting pretty rigidly while leaning away from Rose at a strange angle, my right shoulder eventually flares up in agitation.

I try to rotate my arm a few times and then go to rub at it, accidentally elbowing Rose in the process.

“Ow! Would you sit still over there?” Rose touches her arm gingerly where I bumped her.

“Sorry, my shoulder's starting to act up,” I explain.

“Probably because of how you're sitting right now,” she guesses as she gestures at my current posture.

I go to point out the fact that _she's_ the reason I'm sitting so strangely, but she speaks first, “Sit up and lean forward.”

I open my mouth to protest but she cuts in yet again and demands, “Just do it.”

“Thought you were sponsored by New Balance, gotta be careful throwing around Nike's slogan like that. Could be bad for business,” I sass.

Rose goes silent and briefly closes her eyes while taking a calming breath, meaning my remark was a winner. Eyes open again, she realizes I've complied and leaned forward as instructed.

I feel her hand on my shoulder, carefully rubbing around. She touches the sore spot and I inform, “Right there.”

“Where, here?” she asks as she pushes a little harder on the spot. To be clear, she knew _exactly_ where I meant the first time.

I shrink away and realize that was _definitely_ her way of replying to my Nike comment. Should have known it wouldn't go unanswered.

I assume we're done on the matter now that she got even, but then Rose confirms, “Yeah you've got a knot.”

And suddenly she's readjusting as she informs, “I'll get it out for you.”

Before I know it, Rose squeezes into the space behind me, landing me seated between her legs. Here I was thinking the way we were sitting _earlier_ was difficult.

And then I feel Rose's hands on me. She starts by running them up the center of my back, which makes me shiver. Completely unnecessary for a shoulder tweak, I might add.

“Relax, you're pinching at your neck,” she says as she reaches the top, and her voice is calming. Certainly not her usual tone, that's for sure.

She starts to knead at my neck, and it admittedly feels really good. So I tilt my head forward to give her better access.

I become aware that we've drawn attention when Sam jokes, “I see you over there Miss 'I have weak wrists and can't give massages'.”

Rose freezes and I pull my head up to look back at her.

Our eyes meet, and she appears to have a light dusting of pink on her cheeks. Hard to tell for sure though with the main source of light being the TV.

Rose goes stoic as she responds to Sam, “I'm making an exception. I owe Son from helping with extra hammy stretches the other day. Which, last time I checked, you were too busy to partake in.”

Sam replies, “No, that's not fair. I told you I was going to call Pat because it was his birthday. Otherwise I would have helped.”

“Regardless, you've got to earn the magic of these hands,” Rose raises both of her hands in the air and wiggles her fingers back and forth for emphasis.

“Shh, ladies. Trying to watch,” Becky hushes us. And that's the end of it.

It was a valiant effort, Sam trying to tease Rose like that, but it was only a matter of time before she was going to get shut down. Speaking of shutting things down, I'm currently trying to get thoughts of the type of magic Rose's hands could get up to out of my head.

A moment later, I feel Rose's lips against my ear as she whispers, “Always getting me into trouble lately, aren't you?”

And then, as though nothing out of the ordinary transpired, she resumes rubbing out my back and shoulders.

Between the whisper, the contact, and the fact that she leaned to my far side so no one else would see her say it, the moment is laced with what feels like an electric charge. It instantly makes my heart start to race, and I'm too effected to argue back that _she_ is, by far, the bigger troublemaker here.

After my talk with Kelley, I can't help but wonder if this qualifies as a sign. I mean, how does one even know for sure? Especially with someone like Rose. I'll have to run it by Kelley later to see what she thinks of all this.

Rose takes her time with the massage, and I can't help but eventually melt into her touch. She later reaches my sore spot, and works at it carefully. She applies enough pressure to help loosen the knot, but not too much to make it unbearably painful. It's not too awkward when I make a couple noisesthroughout the process. I mean, we've all been sore, we've all had someone dig into said sore spots for us, and we all know it's a natural reaction to having muscles properly worked on.

Nobody comments or teases, including Rose thankfully. And I relax further into it, thereby allowing Rose to work at my shoulder even better.

I seem to have reached an almost meditative state, because I'm startled back to my senses awhile later when Rose finally squeezes my shoulders and quietly says, “There, problem solved.”

And she's right, my shoulder, as well as the entire upper back side of my body, feel much better.

“Thanks,” I say, and I slowly go to readjust so Rose doesn't feel squashed behind me.

But Rose uses her hold on my shoulders to prevent me from moving forward, and then actively pulls me closer until I'm leaning right back into her with my head resting against the chair beside her own.

I turn my head to face her right as she turns hers to face me. And it's still there, that charge. I'm overtaken by it, and look down at Rose's lips for a moment before returning my gaze to meet Rose's. And right now, it feels like we're the only two people in the room. Maybe even the world for all I know.

And Rose isn't smirking at me as I half expected. In fact, she looks pretty serious as she slowly traces her hands along my shoulders and then down my arms. She rests her left arm, the one people would notice were it to continue moving around, innocently on the chair's armrest. Her right arm, however, stays in motion. I realize that I'm seconds away from kissing Rose in front of my teammates, so I avert my gaze to the television screen while my focus remains right on Rose.

She traces her right hand up and down my arm several times, her fingers trailing over me so lightly I quickly develop a case of goosebumps.

What the hell is she doing to me right now and why? Is she teasing me? Is this payback for something else I've done?

I rack my brain and come up short. I don't have to go back very far either, Rose is usually pretty quick to settle the score when she deems it necessary.

I'm undeniably impacted by it all, severely so, but I soon learn Rose is just getting started. As she reaches my elbow during the next descent of my arm, she changes course and runs her hand under my arm altogether, along my side, and then under the blanket, so that it's now resting on my thigh.

And well, it's bad news bears. I'm trying not to panic, but the questions come rushing into my head.

Should I say something? Should I move away- maybe sit on the floor? Should I- oh, God that feels good.

She's up and down the outside of my thigh, along the waistline of my pants, and then back to my thigh again. Except this next time, she runs her upward movement slowly and surely along my inner thigh as opposed to the outside like it was on the way down.

I'm working extremely hard not to make a visible or audible reaction as Rose's fingers roam dangerously close to where I've wanted them to be for weeks now.

Until, all of a sudden, Rose's hand jumps up and lands directly on my You Know Where. It's only for a fleeting moment, because Rose pulls away a second later after gasping quietly like she hadn't meant to do it in the first place. But the damage is already done.

The combination of the stimulation and the surprise cause me to make a throaty noise in response. It's somewhere between a low moan and a croak. And I know that, unlike the couple innocent groans I made during my massage, this noise won't go unnoticed. Any attempt to downplay it would be questionable at best, and you know what? I'm done for today. Done with trying to play it cool while Rose drives me completely insane.

I seriously cannot believe she actually just touched me in my Place Which Must Not Be Named while watching a Harry Potter movie with a good portion of the team, and I'm _not_ going to sit here and deal with the questions and strange looks while Rose soaks it all up for her own enjoyment.

Nope, Rose crossed a line this time, and I make damn sure she's aware of that fact when I jump forward out of the chair, spin back to face her, and irritably ask, “Are you serious right now?”

Rose doesn't seem to find the situation funny, her face actually looks extremely apologetic.

But I've already committed to a storm out, so I proceed right along as planned even when Rose responds, “Shit, no that wasn't- Son, I'm sorry.”

I'm across the room in a flash, and kneel to start searching for my shoes in the dark. I see movement and glance over to realize Rose is in the process of standing up, and the rest of the room is also staring at her. Thankfully, I'm able to locate my shoes relatively quickly considering the mess of a pile we've created, so I'm halfway out the door before anyone speaks.

And, in case you're curious, it's Rose who speaks first as she supplies an excuse, “Son's just mad because I left the hair straightener on in our room again. Apparently I'm going to 'burn the hotel down' so – got to go!” Rose laughs nervously afterwards, and it's not her finest execution.

I can perfectly picture the air quotes she probably used when describing me berating her, because _of course_ she's going to finagle her way out of this so that I seem like I'm overreacting. I mean, even if that were the reason I'm annoyed with her, fire safety is no laughing matter, and Rose is simply too skilled at influencing a room for her own good. If that's even possible.

I decide on several things all at once as I sprint-walk down the hallway:

  * First, this is entire situation is too much for me, and clearly I can't hang.

  * Second, I want, _need_ , us to go back to a place where I'm not constantly worried about what's going to happen next and when.

  * Third, none of this is worth risking my friendship with Rose over. She's too important to me.

  * And fourth, I'm getting the hell out of here before Rose can catch up to me because I don't want to look at her right now.




I tap my foot up-and-down while waiting for the elevator, which is taking its sweet time I might add.

When I hear hurried footsteps approaching, I determine it's time to take the stairs.

I climb them two at a time to establish more of a lead. I don't hear the stairwell door reopen and close behind me, which hopefully means Rose gave up on pursuing me.

It doesn't, I realize after my five flight climb. Rose is already waiting for me on the eighth floor, so the elevator must have arrived right after I left.

I scowl at her, and she gives me the tiniest 'work smarter not harder' smirk back, which pisses me off further and causes me to blow right by her, re-tweaking my shoulder as I bump into her in the process.

I don't hold the door open for her when I walk into our room, and I would have been very tempted to put the chain lock on to keep her out if she didn't manage to slip in right after me.

I realize there's nowhere else to run to, so I face back to Rose. It's time to give her a piece of my mind.

Rose beats me to the punch per usual, “Look I didn't mean to-”

“You can't do that anymore,” I cut in after deciding I'm not going to be delayed in delivering my message this time.

Rose nods and quickly agrees, “You're right. I shouldn't have done that, but I swear it wasn't supposed to go that far.”

I shake my head at her in confusion, so Rose reluctantly clarifies, “I just meant to tease you a little. I jumped when- because of- ugh, the Dementor scenes scare me, okay?”

Why does she always want to watch these movies if they scare her? And why does she have to look so cute when she admits to being scared by them?

I ignore both questions because they annoy me, and there are more important topics to cover right now, “No, Rose, I don't mean just not repeating what you did today. I mean like at all. I cant do this experimenting thing with you. You need to find someone else to do this stuff with.”

Rose's face falls into what looks to be disappointment as she replies, “Yikes, okay. That's fine then, didn't realize I'm that bad. But I really am sorry about earlier, and as long as our friendship is okay that's what matters most to me.”

I realize that Rose is opening up to me, and suddenly the moment feels different. I know this isn't a common occurrence and that if Rose doesn't want someone to know something about her feelings, they won't.

And I'm not trying to hurt Rose or get her down on herself here, so I sigh and explain, “It's not because you're bad.”

Rose looks unclear when she asks, “Then what is it?”

I throw my hands up and and say, “You know what? Fuck it, you win. I'm sure you're going to figure it out eventually anyways.”

She extends her neck forward slightly as though it might help her figure out what the heck I'm talking about.

I hold my eyes closed tightly for a second before opening them and explaining, “It's because I'm thinking of _you_.”

“Huh?” Rose asks.

I quickly grow impatient and just want this to be over with as soon as possible, “When I close my eyes and think about who I want to kiss, it's you I'm thinking about. And when we _do_ kiss, I'm not thinking about anyone else.”

Rose looks as surprised as she sounds, “Oh, really?”

I ignore her question, because I'm not about to admit it again, and instead continue, “So you see? I can't do this with you. It feels wrong.”

And I think it must be an involuntary part of Rose's character that makes her smirk and ask, “So you _did_ mean it when you said I was sexy the other day?”

Like maybe she simply has to emit her pure snarkasm (yes, snarkasm) all the time due to the way her brain is wired.

I can only shake my head at her as I reply, “Of course that would be your takeaway from what I just said.”

The smirk deepens as she tops it with another question, “Well aren't you going to ask who I think about?”

I frown at her and scold, “This is already embarrassing enough, why would I do that to myself?”

Rose questions, “Well, what if I'm thinking of you too?”

And she's the master of deceit, because she manages to somehow sound serious. Even though it's flawlessly executed, I decide it's a low blow, and I'm quick to inform Rose, “You're being such a dick right now,” as I make for my second storm out of the evening.

But Rose holds her arms out to stop me when I try to get past her, “How was that mean?”

And I'm astounded that she's _still_ playing at this.

“You're being a total smart-ass and you know it,” I accuse.

Rose furrows her brow as she suggests, “I mean I would categorize it more as honesty, but I guess sure, take it as you will.”

Okay, even Rose wouldn't take things this far if she were joking, right?

But, I'm still not completely sold, “Wait, seriously?

Rose shrugs as she confirms, “Yeah.”

And it's like she wants to look nonchalant, but I can hear the change in her voice when she says it. She sounds a little nervous.

Since when do I make Rose Lavelle nervous?

I obviously have to question further, “What about this being an experiment to see if you even liked kissing girls?”

Rose draws her bottom lip down a bit in guilt as she admits, “Yeah about that, pretty sure my hypothesis was confirmed when you kissed me the first time. I kinda just wanted to kiss you again.”

My jaw drops, “So all this time I've been worrying about taking advantage of you and ruining our friendship and you've been perfectly fine using and abusing me.”

Rose tilts her head slightly to the side as she says, “Sounds kinda bad when you say it like that.”

“Sorry,” she adds.

I call her right out on that one, “No, you're not.”

Rose laughs and admits, “I'm really not, no. You're a pretty good kisser so... a girl's gotta do what she's gotta do.”

I shake my head yet again, “You're unbelievable.”

Even when I've learned to expect this type of behavior from her, it somehow still blows my mind every time.

“And don't forget sexy,” she smirks.

I decide it's time to reply in kind, “You know I thought about it, and I'm actually still deciding. I think I need a larger sample size before making a final determination there.”

And the key difference between myself and Rose as of late is that she gets under my skin so effortlessly, whereas even when I'm _trying_ to do damage I can only seem to force an amused smile from Rose at best.

She's wearing one right now as she replies, “Any good scientist would agree. And lucky for you, I'm a bomb lab partner.”

And now she's approaching. I've finally wisened up to recognizing the look she's wearing, and I know what she's going for. I can't make it too easy on her out of principle, so I step away and tut, “Not so fast, if you want the real deal you're going to have to feed me first.”

Rose scrunches up her face and then there's that damn smile once again, “So like... a date?”

I instantly panic, a date is an entirely different discussion: one we haven't had yet, one I'm _way_ too terrified to have right now, “What?! No, who said anything about a date?”

I have to take a steadying breath at having even spoken the word 'date' in a conversation with Rose before continuing, “No, just a peace offering, which I am more than deserving of after today if you ask me.”

Rose's smile takes on an even more annoying form as she responds, “Gotcha, so not a date. Just two friends getting food.”

I let out a breath of relief that she's finally playing nice, “Exactly.”

“Who can kiss and stuff sometimes,” Rose quickly adds.

I respond without thinking, “If you're lucky.”

Rose chuckles and replies, “You know, I like my chances. How's dinner tomorrow?”

"Fine," I agree, and the confidence is as irritating as it is, dare I say, sexy.

In a shocking end to the day, I'm left agreeing with Kelley's thought that maybe Rose isn't even sure if she's straight right now.

And if that's the case, maybe it's not such a bad thing to help her figure it out. As long as I don't get too attached, of course.

That part is key.


	7. The Strike Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To not date, or not to date, it isn't a question. Is it?

So, I'm on the road again. This time, I'm heading to Kelley's room because Rose told me to “go away so she can get ready.”

Apparently, informing her that this isn't a date, so she doesn't need to “get ready” is not an appropriate response, because it earned me a scolding from Rose that it “shouldn't need to be a date for a woman to want to feel good about how she looks.”

And she's totally right, I guess I'm maybe a little bit in overdrive trying to make sure it's extremely clear to all that this is just two friends grabbing a bite to eat, and _not_ a date. Still, I'm temporarily exiled from our room.

Kelley, of course, isn't having it. From the second I walk in, she's giving me shit, “So Romeo, where art thou taking thy lovely Juliet to dine this fine eve?”

“Yeah, you're going to need to cut that shit out real quick, Kel.”

“Okay fine. But seriously, where are you taking Rose for your date?”

My quirked brow forces a tiny smirk at the corner of Kelley's mouth. She's totally fucking with me right now, “It's _not_ a date.”

“Oh okay, it's just you and Rose going though, right?”

“Yup.”

“So you're casually going to get dinner and drinks?”

“Exactly.”

Ugh, she's already opening her mouth again before I can even get my answer out. Kelley's got 99 questions and I hate every one.

“And again, nobody else is going?”

“I'm not repeating myself.”

“Fine, last one I promise. She tried to kiss you again last night, right?”

Okay, I'm over this, she's lucky to even get a nod as confirmation right now. And there's that know it all look on her face again. Here we go.

“Yeah, Son, that's a date.”

False.

“I see how it could _look_ like it's a date. But we talked and decided it's not a date, so it's not one.”

“So _she_ said it's not a date?”

Yup, her eyes are squinted and her words are pointed, Kelley's in full Stanford processing mode right now, God help us all.

“She didn't need to. Obviously she doesn't want it to be a date. I said it for her so she didn't have to.”

“How sweet of you.”

Finally she's seeing reason, “Thank you.”

But then Kelley's hand is rising and her index finger is hooking in the air as she adds, “And stupid.”

Just when I thought the coast was clear.

“Dude, what did I do now?”

“You shot down the idea of you two going on a date before you even tested the waters to see if she was interested.”

“Yeah but she doesn't-”

“What did I say about making assumptions about what other people want?”

“Oh, right.”

So tempting to ask Kelley how she got so smart to try and make her say she went to Stanford for the millionth time. Fun little game to play actually, sometimes Rose and I bet on who can make her say it first.

But there's no time for that now, because now is the time for full-out freakazoid panic mode to set in.

_Does_ Rose want to go a date with me? Do _I_ want to take Rose on a date? Did I ruin my shot of _ever_ taking Rose on a date?

I'm so spaced out that I completely miss the advice Kelley is trying to give me. Alternating between “I completely agree” and “good point” will get you pretty far in a conversation with Kelley though if you're ever in a pinch. You know, just FYI.

Time passes. How much? I'm unsure. And when I do finally have the bright idea to check my phone, I bolt upright because I also missed Rose's text to let me know she's ready.

“Gotta go!”

Whoops, my darting off may have been a little disorderly considering Kelley's current scowl. Oh well, she'll be fine. A classic scramble to text Rose ensues as I throw open the door, completely failing to realize that Rose is already approaching to pick me up from Kelley's room.

And it's perfect timing really, that Rose arrives right as the door is wide open for me to leave, and right as Kelley decides to deliver one last idiotic comment, “Have a nice DATE, I mean time!”

“Fucking hell Kelley, for the last time it's NOT A DATE!”

And my hair flies back behind me as a lurch out into the hallway. Only to come to a screeching halt when I find myself face-to-face with Rose. Shit, play it cool. Maybe she didn't hear all the yelling back and forth just now.

“Oh, hey Rose.”

No such luck on her not hearing us, because Rose has her head cocked to the side as she does when analyzing the shit out of a situation. I swear she's like a Goddamn Velaciraptor sometimes: smelling my fear, hearing my most silent secrets (in addition to the ones I carelessly yell across a crowded hotel), and endlessly devising my downfall in the most amusing manner possible. All I can really do is wait, because that look _always_ means trouble is coming, and just like a Velaciraptor, I can't outrun her, I can't deter her, and I sure as hell can't outsmart her.

Rose smiles, takes a step towards me, and then leans in. And whatever perfume she's wearing smells really good. Not going to ask what it is though, don't want to give her the satisfaction that her scent ever filled my nostrils. Except it did, and I kind of want it to stay there. Because that means she's close by, and when she's close by we can-

Ah, this has nothing to do with her wanting to be near me, Rose is simply peering into Kelley's room through the open door. She doesn't say hi back to me, and instead responds to Kelley's comment wishing us a good time on our 'date', “Aw, thanks, Kel!”

Kelley looks like she's about to shit a brick right now. If I weren't equally as horrified by the situation, I'd thank Rose for the treat of being able to watch Kelley look so uncomfortable.

Her recovery laugh is cringey, but at least she's trying, “I'm kidding, because you two are just getting dinner as buddies. You know? Ha-ha!”

Rose nods and supplies a peppy, ”Mhm!”

She then turns back to me, smile only widening at how uneasy I must look, and excitedly asks, “Ready to go?”

So yeah, she killed two lesbian birds with one stone. Are we surprised?

“After you,” I gesture down the hallway to let Rose know I'll follow her out, because I absolutely need to send dagger eyes at Kelley to nonverbally let her know she's the worst right now.

My phones buzzes against my thigh in the elevator, and that's definitely Kelley apologizing. I'm not taking my phone out to look at it for two reasons: 1. Rose would know it's Kelley and somehow find a way to look even more smug than she already does and 2. There's no available brain function as I deep dive into the implications this event will have on the remainder of the night.

But then Rose's foot tapping starts to irritate me, and what starts as a grimace turns into a full head to toe scan. Because in our chaotic start, I failed to notice how knockout Rose looks in the leggings, v-neck shirt, and vest ensemble she's got going on.

“Hi,” Rose says, finally drawing my attention up from the rest of her body.

“Hey.”

“You can tell me I look nice, you know? If you want to.”

I should really start tallying these sadistic smiles of hers. She knows she looks good right now, and I know it too. No need to feed into her ego though, “That wasn't- not what I was going to say.”

“Really? Wouldn't be weird if you were, I was just about to comment on your outfit actually.”

That “danger ahead” warning runs down my spine like a shiver, “What about it?”  
  


“Just how it's interesting that this _isn't_ a date, yet you're wearing a shirt covered in roses. Some might say it could be construed as a romantic gesture.”

What is she even talking about? This is just a fitted black polo with an innocent little white flower print- oh fuck, they totally _are_ roses. How did I not notice this earlier? On to damage control then, come on Sonnett, think!

“Not a gesture, it's just a pattern, reminds me of the Thorns actually. Not everything has to do with you, in case you didn't know.”

“Phew, okay good, I was _really_ nervous for a second there that this was a date.”

You'd think she has an MFA in drama if you could see her face right now.

Yep, that's definitely Strike 1, and this is going to be a long night if I don't start standing up for myself, “Yeah all good there, oh but I was actually just going to warn you before that I'm pretty sure I saw a spider propel down from the ceiling and land on your shoulder.”

Rose hates bugs, and I can tell she's working hard not to lose it by how wide her eyes are, “You're obviously lying.”

A simple shrug suffices, “Just telling you what I thought I saw,”

I know she knows I am in fact lying. But I also know that Rose's fear of spiders will trump her logical thought process if I just stay quiet and suspiciously survey her shoulder. It works, Rose yelps as she feels something creep along her neck, likely her vest collar or her hair. She jumps and spins in a full circle as she repeatedly swats at herself.

“Did I get it?” Rose asks desperately.

“Yeah I think you're probably good now,” and boy is it hard to contain the grin trying to escape.

Panicky Rose is adorable, by the way.

**…**

“So, thank you for the honor of being your first not date since you've become a single woman again. I realize you have a lot of options of people you can choose from to not date, and I'm really thrilled thatI'm the one you chose to not take out today.”

And we're off, not a minute after being seated at our table and she's already giving me hell. It's far too early on to be at Strike 2, and yet here we are.

“Okay, Rose, drop it. Kelley was just trying to mess with me earlier. Don't make it into a whole thing.”

“I'm fully aware of that, and I'm simply continuing her efforts because I can tell it's working.”

“Do as you must.”

All I can really do here is try to make it seem like this isn't getting to me and hope that she will grow bored of it. I also proceed to order a double whiskey on the rocks, because obviously that will be needed. Rose opts for her standard G&T.

It comes as a surprise when her voice softens moments later, “Seriously though, how are you doing with everything?”

This right here is the non-soccer equivalent of when Rose passes the ball ahead for you to run onto, knowing you'll hit pressure, but then immediately shows for the support pass so she can switch the field. It's her goal to cross the ball the entire time, she just wants to throw the defense off first to create gaps.

The tension I didn't realize my body was holding starts to dissipate, it seems I'm safe for now, “I'm fine, all for the better and just trying to keep focused on the things that matter and I guess maybe good things to come.”

Our drinks arrive as if right on cue.

“To moving on then, I suppose?”

“To moving on,” I agree.

Our glasses clink together and the first sip of whiskey knocks me on my ass in a beautiful way.

“I haven't been too hard on you, have I?”  
  


My jaw all but hits my chest, “What do _you_ think?”

“I think I've been keeping you busy.”

Twinkle twinkle Rose's eyes, how I fear for my demise, “I'd say that's entirely accurate.”

But when she smiles, it seems like this is all in good fun. That at the end of the day maybe she just wants to make sure I'm not dwelling on my breakup. Which, LOL, Chelsea who?

Rose lets up on the teasing while we wait for and eat our food. We actually feel like our normal friendship again as we talk shit over whose NWSL club team will dominate this season and theorize about who our most difficult opponents will be at the upcoming World Cup.

She also challenges me to a round of Mario Kart, which I'm quick to accept. She keeps thinking if she practices on Lindsey and Mal enough she'll be able to beat me. Simply untrue, and I welcome any and all opportunities to wipe the floor with Rose. Because, by and large, she's used to being on top. Okay, get your mind out of the gutter, I didn't mean it like that. But yeah, I guess kinda like that too it seems.

And it's amazing, the things one will start to notice when not in utter distress of impending, and repetitive, blows to their ego.

Like how Rose's ears rise slightly when I make her laugh.

Or how her smile, the one I refer to as her 'real' smile, hits me like a punch to the gut in how it makes me lose my train of thought, my words, and my breath. Not that any of her smiles are fake, but this particular smile is the one I know comes not from teasing, pranking, toying, nor plotting, but straight from that heart of gold behind all the mayhem.

And how if I stay quiet and smile at Rose, she gets a little shy and quickly blinks a couple times before grinning and running her hand through her hair. It always manages to falls back into place looking more perfect than the time before.

I wonder what she notices about me. What she thinks about when she's sitting there with those beautiful eyes taking in the world around her. If maybe she's working through more than she lets on. If maybe underneath the surgeon-like precision of how she executes objectives in life and soccer, which are one and the same for us really, perhaps she's just as scared as I am.

Damn, I guess not much scares me more than Rose. Probably best if that fact remains unknown.

**...**

The waitress approaches with our check, and it's quite a relief how smoothly this meal has gone considering our early incidents.

I do this thing whenever I'm out looking a little butch, okay fine, _soft_ butch, whatever. Anyways, I do this thing when I'm out with a more femme looking lady, aka Rose, where I try to predict if the server will give the bill directly to me assuming I'll be paying because of how I look, or if they'll kind of do a frantic glancing between us and leave it in the middle, or if they'll just be chill and not even register the dynamic at all.

I've also had one server go to hand it to me and then switch at the last second and give it to the girl I was out with, as though they realized they were stereotyping and wanted to counteract. Got me a free meal, so I'm not complaining. Also nice not being the awkward one for a change.

Today my guess is the waitress will bring it to me, but not because she's stereotyping. I'm fairly certain the server is queer herself, and has sent me several almost congratulatory looks that I'm out with someone as beautiful as Rose. No, if she hands me the bill it will be in a, _trust me kid, you'll want to pick this tab up and keep this one around_ way _._ If only she knew what came along with that pretty face, she might be sending me looks of sympathy instead.

She reaches the table and thanks us for dining in today and then, sure enough, turns to hand me the bill. Totally fine, I have no problem with tossing it across the table at Rose once the waitress leaves, hell it might even be enjoyable, but I don't get the chance.

“I'll take it actually,” Rose smiles as she reaches out for the check.

“Oh, of course,” the server smiles back as she reroutes the bill.

Rose already has her card ready to go, as though she was prepared to fight me over who would pay if I had tried to take it myself. It makes me grin as she pops her card into the check holder.

She then sends me a quick smirk and informs the waitress as she hands the folder over, “Oh and, just so you know, this isn't a date,” she gestures between us before continuing, ”I mean I tried, but she's not feeling it.”

And this is what I get for being in public spaces with her. Now the server is giving me this concerned look, likely trying to let me know I'd be an idiot to shoot Rose down.

I quickly shake my head in my own defense, “So sorry, she's kidding, please ignore her.”

The server smirks at me and concludes, “I'll be right back with this.”

When she returns with the receipt and Rose's card, the waitress looks back and forth between us and says, “You know, it's too bad this isn't a date. You'd be super cute together.”

Rose grins so widely it makes me want to kick her and then replies, “That's what I keep saying!”

My cheeks burn as they both look over at me. What happened to gays backing gays, lady?!

She only chuckles and signs off with, “You two have a great night.”

“Thanks,” we reply in unison, though our tones are far from matching.

And as Rose beams across the table at me, I decide it's Strike 2 ½. And the only reason it's not Strike 3 is because I don't know what will happen at Strike 3, and we're so close to concluding the evening that I don't feel like putting in the effort to decide on the repercussions.

**...**

The room door clicks closed behind us, and then it's quiet.

Now what?

Rose sighs contentedly, “Wow, that was fun. Thanks for not going on a date with me, we should really not do it again sometime.”

My sigh is less than content as I note Strike 2 ¾, “Agreed, that was a total nightmare.”

Looks like I might have to come up with corrective measures after all...


	8. Strike Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Rose is out.
> 
> OR – 
> 
> Things happen. It isn't soft... which isn't to say it won't ever get there.

_The room door clicks closed behind us, and then it's quiet. Now what?_

_Rose sighs contentedly, “Wow, that was fun. Thanks for not going on a date with me, we should really not do it again sometime.”_

_My sigh is less than content as I note Strike 2 ¾, “Agreed, that was a total nightmare.”_

_Looks like I might have to come up with corrective measures after all._

Rose chuckles quietly as she approaches from the side. Closer and closer, until there's her perfume again. Her hand runs across her right shoulder, sweeping the straps of her bag off of it, “Perfect, that's what I was going for.”

And I have to wonder if she's intentionally lining all of this up so that my frustration is boiling over right as I hear the thud of her bag landing on the floor beside us, right as Rose tugs at the collar of my shirt, and right as her lips meet my own.

My phone is pulled from my hands and tossed onto my bed behind us, and anticipation sets in.

However – allowing this to continue would reinforce bad behavior, wouldn't it?

Although – continued bad behavior might not be the worst thing now that we're alone.

Except – Lindsey said I could hang with her and Sam tonight if I wanted to, and that would definitely be the responsible thing to do. The safe thing.

But then, our tongues are colliding while Rose traces her hands from my collarbone up my neck, and I'm not going anywhere. I pull back only to check on setting expectations, “Just kissing, right?”

“Yeah okay, just kissing,” Rose replies, almost like it's me setting that limit, but I'm only asking because that's where I thought _her_ line would be.

Kelley's right, I really have to stop with the assumptions. My eyes blink back at her uncertainly, is kissing all she wants right now?

Rose's hands on me make mine want to be on her, deeply jealous from their lack of contact. Resistance is key here though, because they'll only want more once they get there. Hold it together, dammit. That's it, I got this.

Shit, no I don't. Want to know what I _do_ have? I'm going to tell you regardless:

Two fists full of Rose's shirt, immediately used to pull her closer still. Two ears full of the impact it has on Rose, quick exhale out, then a deep breath in. And two eyes full of Rose's look of surprise transforming into something more engaged, maybe even activated, as she gets closer and closer until our lips meet again.

And then all gives way to darkness.

Rose's lips are so smooth, none of that chapped shark mouth Sam has going on. Like I love her to death, but that girl needs some chapstick, stat. That's Pat's problem though, not mine.

My only problem currently is keeping it together, because kissing Rose feels good. Maybe too good. Okay, just take it easy, my hands are fine as long as I don't run them down her-

Welp, there they go.

She's trim, but strong. Muscles jut out, accentuated by her frequent flinching, and break up the straight line they'd otherwise travel down Rose's sides.

Her waist isn't the finish line either, only a pivoting point. Soon both of my arms are wrapping around her lower back. Fingers inch onward until both hands have surpassed Rose's spine, thereby enveloping her.

Thin arms work their way around the back of my neck, and everything starts to get away from me. Except Rose, she's closer than ever before. My knees lower slightly in unison with my hold on Rose, allowing me to dip slightly and scoop her right up off the ground.

It's just like when Rose scores a goal in a big game, runs right at me, and launches herself into my arms. Except this time, nobody scored a goal, no one's around, and Rose breathes out a light laugh while she wraps her legs around my waist.

She's looking down at me and smiling. I'm half waiting for her to tell me to put her down, to say we should stop, that this is enough for one day. But she doesn't. She just resumes kissing me.

I'm not stopping then. My shins reach Rose's bed, and she's light enough for me to slowly lean forward and lay her down as I crawl forward until I'm hovering over her.

She doesn't say it, but something seems different. The intensity in her eyes, the heaviness of her breathing, and the tightness of her grip on the back of my shoulders have all grown. For once, I don't need to ask Kelley if these qualify as signs. These are definitely signs, signs we are crossing into uncharted territory.

Rose's hands desert their post on my shoulder blades and make the journey around my back and down to my waist. They don't rest there though, instead diving under my shirt and lightly starting to trace back up my sides.

Rose watches me with a gleam in her eyes as she does it. Here comes that bad behavior.

It's clear that I'll eventually have to decide between continuing to hold myself up or stopping Rose's hands from going exactly where I know they're en route to. Sometimes her daringness makes her somewhat predictable.

But she's not trying to hide it, and my educated guess is she wants to watch me decide, to put me on the spot. Except I'm not quite sure she'll actually go through with it.

An unspoken game of chicken commences, Rose's hands slowly creeping upward as she smiles deviously at me, and my stomach muscles flexing to prevent them from jolting about uncontrollably from Rose's touch.

Hopefully my facial expression is as straight as the rest of me is gay, but the chances of that are slim, especially as Rose gets closer to her destination. Time for a warning, “Don't you do it.”

“Do what?” her hands pause, like she's not up to anything.

“You know what.”

She smirks and movement resumes. “Oh, you mean-?” she stops again, this time just shy of her intended targets, hands open and fingers stretched out along my ribs.

“You'll regret it if you do.”

“Not sure that I will,” she objects.

I can tell by the way she said it that she's going to do it, and she's in for a rude awakening. My weight shifts slightly into a kneeling position, now I'm ready. I've got a couple tricks up my sleeve, I just rarely am composed enough to use them against Rose.

She starts to run her hands up over my breasts and is centimeters off of my nipples, and part of me wants to let Rose do it, because it will feel so damn good, but this isn't about that. This is about taking back the upper hand that Rose has been allowed to walk away with for far too long.

Spidey reflexes work in my defense this time, and before Rose can prevent it, her arms are pinned above her head.

And it's truly more of a realization for me than a challenge, “Wow, you really need someone to put you in your place, don't you?”

Rose, for her part, appears completely taken aback, but that's only because she has no idea all the times I've held back from responding this way before. And, to be fair, I did try to warn her so, just saying.

After a moment, her eyebrows return to their natural position, and her mouth shifts into a smirk from the slightly ajar position moments prior when she let out a little gasp.

She seems to have a realization of her own, “Maybe so. You going to do something about it?”

My laugh sounds alien to even myself. It sounds like I feel in this moment: powerful. And so, another warning to Rose, “You couldn't handle it if I did.”

Rose's amusement appears to be in abundance today, “Try me.”

How can she say it so assertively even when pinned down beneath me?

Always the capitalist, Rose must notice I'm a bit lost in thought, and tries to wriggle herself free. Yeah, not happening. My grip quickly tightens.

“Let me go,” she whines. Ah, there it is. Knew she wouldn't like being under my control for long. Too bad, really, I'd make it worth her while.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Not good enough.”

“Then what would be?”

“Asking nicely would be a good start.”

Her eye roll is predictable, but she soon complies, “Please.”

“No.” God this is so fun. Is this how Rose feels every day?

She sighs her 'I hate you right now' sigh, “What else is it going to take?”

Not about to give her the answer, maybe another question instead, “Why do you need your hands free so badly?”

“It's not my hands I want free, it's yours.”

Bullshit. “Why?”

“Because I want them doing other things”

Unlikely. “Such as?”

“I could show you if you let me.”  
  


Interesting. “And how do I know-”

“You'd have to trust me.”

Good one, Rose. “Would you trust yourself?”

Rose smiles, and she's got to know it's a fair question, “In this situation, I would, yes.”

There's the hint of a promise there. What's she plotting now?

And just like I knew she'd eventually flail like a maniac when I said there's a spider on her, Rose seems to realize it's only a matter of time before my curiosity will make me let her go. It's written all over her face.

“Fine.”

This isn't a super comfortable position anyways, I can just lean back a little and -

Rose is quick on the draw and has her hands on my wrists before they even return to my sides. And then, in a flash, she has my hands right on her breasts. Not lightly pressed against them, either. No, she ran her hands up over my own and, holy shit, Rose's grip has me full out wrapped around her boobs right now.

My eyebrows are essentially skiing because they start off at the highest point they've ever been from sheer surprise and end up pulled so low I'm squinting in response to Rose's smirk.

What the hell is she doing? More importantly, what the hell am I supposed to do now that I'm sitting here at second base, straddling Rose?

No, you know what? Fuck it, _Strike 3_ , let's have some fun then.

Rose's hands are quick to drop away and land on my thighs when she realizes I'm grabbing her of my own accord. Full access allows me to “accidentally” slip a thumb under her bra and over her nipple.

She mutters a single syllable that I'm unable to identify at the contact and maybe, just maybe, I _can_ make her unravel the way I've been wanting to for what feels like a lifetime.

But how far will she let me go?

“And do you trust _me_?” My hand travels north, slowly surpassing the base of Rose's neck until it covers her throat. The slightest squeeze will tell me everything I want to know. She's not stopping me, so it happens.

Her nails dig into my thighs as she inhales sharply, spurring doubt in my mind until she tips her chin up, granting me access to do whatever I want to her. I guess that answers my question then. Maybe this _isn't_ just about getting the upper hand to Rose. And it's all too much for me, because I want it far too badly.

All attempts to bite back words fail. “Rose?”

“Yeah?” Her voice is higher, softer beneath my hold, which I quickly relinquish when my hand curls around to the side of Rose's neck. A light pull leads her forward until she's sitting upright, our faces inches apart.

“I want to do more than kiss you.”

“Me too.” Quick reply, shaky voice, dark eyes, bottom lip caught between her teeth – Rose actually wants to do this.

Thank God.

My eyes are pulled away from hers, because there's quite a nice view looking down Rose's v-neck from this angle. And she must have caught my train of thought, because Rose's arms are above her head the second she feels me start to pull at the bottom corners of it. She's somehow got her bra off by the time I toss her shirt on the floor.

And before I can fully take in how gorgeous her body is, I'm jolted forward by a tug on my polo, and then it's quickly ripped off me. Soon followed by my own bra. I mean, I guess that's only fair.

My move now, and I lean in to kiss her with everything I've got.

Soon Rose is pinned back down to the bed beneath me. But her hands are free this time, because mine have better things to do than trying to prevent hers from doing the things I want her to do to me in the first place.

So she does finally reach my nipples after all, and I don't mind it one bit, even when it makes me moan softly. My body adjusts reflexively, the hand I have tangled in her hair tightening into a fist and my leg running up between Rose's, until she lets out a moan of her own, making me well aware of where my leg just grazed her.

The unintended contact has immediate consequences. Rose starts shifting around frantically, which has me pulling back slightly to make sure she's okay.

Yep, she's fine. She's just- Oh God, she's actually taking off her leggings right now.

Newly pantless, she leans up and kisses me heavily for a moment until, “Touch me.” Rose says it quietly, pleadingly.

One last check-in, “Rose, are you sure? We can stop.”

“I don't want to stop, I want you to touch me. Unless you don't want to?”

“I, well I-” pretty pointless to deny it at this point.

“Go on, tell me you don't want to.” It's like a dare between her teasing tone and how her eyes bore into me.

This girl is going to be the death of me.

I'm not saying it. In fact, I'm not saying anything at all. No, I'm going to-

“That's what I thought,” Rose concludes as she reaches out, pulls my hand into her own and runs it down her stomach. And then there's warm wetness working it's way between my fingers as they're pressed against Rose's body.

Fuck, Rose is wet. For _me._ Rose is wet for me.

A quick exhale leaves my lips and then a whisper, **“** Rose, you can't just do that to me.”

“Really? Just did. Are you going to lie there all night or are you going to-”

And so it seems swiftly entering Rose with two fingers is my decided method of course correction, a surprise to us both.

Rose's eyes roll slightly back before they meet mine again. And I can't read her expression at first. Until the corner of her mouth curls up and she gives me that sexy fucking nod. The one that made me lose my senses and kiss her for the first time when I didn't mean to, when I wasn't supposed to.

Does Rose like it hard? Instincts point to yes, and want me to find out first thing. Shit, this is her first time with a girl, I can't just- I have to ease her in. So it's slow, to start.

But there's this want in me, this need to make Rose let go, to let go of running every situation, every interaction. And judging from her reaction thus far, she wants to deep down as well.

Somewhere along the way, my hands seem to have gone rogue because, like renegades, they're acting of their own free will and against instruction from their superior.

Because surely _I'm_ not thrusting in and out of Rose like this: forcefully, assertively.

Surely _I_ _'m_ not the one making her body tighten like it is: inner walls pulling tight around my fingers.

Surely _I'm_ not the reason her entire body is rocking up and down into the bed below: breasts bouncing slightly, breath hitching sporadically.

It's my damn hands, one inside her, the other claiming every inch of her body exactly when and how it wants to.

No, there's undeniable warmth surrounding my otherwise incessantly cold fingers and I _am_ doing this. This is happening. This is real.

Is it bad that I want her to come fast? That I want her to understand that she's not in control, that she can't just steamroll over me and provoke me without me counterattacking? Not anymore, at least.

Maybe I should slow down, savor the moment, but the prospect of leveling the playing field between us is too enticing, and the idea of letting this be slower, softer too scary. And she's so fucking into it, just like I kinda always thought she would be. Maybe she's even been waiting for someone to stand up to her like this. Thus, hard and fast it remains.

This time it's my eyes disobeying me, staring right down into Rose's, completely unabashed. Then my mouth when it goes as far as smirking at her. And she gives me the smallest smirk back before closing her eyes and tipping her head back, prompting me to lick all the way up her neck and bite at her jaw. A little, “Mm,” in reply.

Stern words, my words, enter the airwaves a few moments later, “Look at me.”

Blue eyes open and her head tilts back down a bit to meet my gaze. And they're so stunning it almost makes me lose my nerve. _Almost._

“This is what you're going to get every time you sass me from now on. Do you understand?”

Nothing at first, but then Rose nods- obediently. Jesus Christ.

“Say it.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

She lets out a strained laugh between stifled moans. She knows I'm doing this on purpose.

Except she's still stubbornly trying to fight it, trying to hide the noises that will make it obvious she's losing control of her body while I'm gaining it. But I don't need to hear them to know she's starting to give in, and she doesn't do the best job of containing them anyways.

Maybe this will do the trick- light circles externally soon pair with the internal stimulation and it does have the intended effect. Rose's high pitched murmur of “Fuck” confirms it.

Definitely keeping that up.

Her breathing becomes rough, ragged, she's getting close. My hand moves even harder and faster, and I curl my fingers slightly further inward. She finally seems to stop fighting it as she says “Oh God, Em, please don't stop.”

“I won't,” and my other hand wraps around her throat again, not to choke her, just to hold her down. To reminder her that I've got her. To make her let go.

It doesn't take long, and this little squeak works it's way up her vocal chords and escapes right as she starts to come, right as she's grabbing and twisting the sheets with one hand, covering her face with a pillow with the other, and toppling over the edge. Her hips roll into it uncontrollably. Good girl, she finally let go, moaning into the pillow as she comes undone.

Her body eventually stills, save for slight trembles over the next couple minutes.

Totally get it, her using the pillow to muffle herself. It's our first time, and we're in a hotel – along with a bunch of our teammates, but I hope I get the chance to hear Rose come at full volume someday.

Now that she's quiet again, my hand moves from her neck to lightly lift the pillow off her face, and then chuck it to the side. Rose's eyes are closed, she's breathing deeply, still trying to come down. It's a proud moment for me, and I'm so turned on by it all it's unbelievable.

And when her eyes open, they immediately find mine, as though they want to tell me something. If I'm reading it right, it's almost like a look of respect, like shes seeing me in a new light.

My soaking wet fingers drag across Rose's stomach purposefully, leaving behind a visual indicator of what I just to her. Her jaw drops a touch in surprise as she watches, and her mouth looks like it might complain, but then morphs into an intrigued grin instead. Yeah, she's starting to see me more clearly now. And it's about time, really.

But suddenly, my pants are undone, enabling Rose's hand to explore, to discover exactly how wet I am after watching Rose take it and come for me.

“Woah,” it's whispered, like she's blown away by feeling how wet she made me, like she- wait, is she freaking out? Is she realizing just how into this I am and it's too much? Of course that's what it is.

This is different, _we_ are different, and this means different things to us. I'm a fully out gay lady who is wet as hell after fucking their best friend. And she's just turned on from doing something new and exciting. Me being wet for Rose likes this means a whole different thing than her being into experimentally hooking up with a girl who happens to be me. Even if she is thinking about me while doing it.

“No, don't,” my hand pulls at her wrist.

Rose immediately stops, “Wait why? What's wrong? I'm happy to return the favor if that's what you're worried about.”

“All good, I'm fine,” in stark contrast to where Rose's hand was, my voice is dry.

Rose gives me a confused look, because she knows for 100% certainty that I'm not 'all good'. I'm a fricken swimming pool right now, and she definitely just dipped a toe in, so she knows the water's warm and ready.

And I don't intentionally lurch up and out of bed, but before I know it, I'm throwing on my shirt with my back to Rose.

“Hey, okay that's fine, you don't have to run off. Just come back here.”

She's meeting my coldness with a warmth I don't deserve considering the way I'm acting. The realization slows me down enough to sit on the edge of the bed, still facing away from Rose.

Quiet again, like when we first got back from dinner, except so much has happened since then. I'm frozen, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Rose to realize the full extent of what happened.

Rose's hand lands on mine, she's trying to calm me down. And it's sweet, but it's the hand that was just inside her, and I see the way Rose glances down when she realizes what she's feeling. When she registers what that hand just did to her.

My fingers drag across the bottom corner of my shirt this time. This is a fucking mess.

Rose sits back suddenly, pulling the covers up higher in the process, “Oh, oh God, we just-”

“Yeah.” Here it is.

She tries to say it again, “We just had-”

“I know.” Now she's realizing.

She gets it on the third try, “Son, we just had sex.”

I don't say anything this time, I'm too worried about where her head is at. I'm a total asshole for letting things go this far. I should have known this would get out of hand.

“I'm sorry, I can go- see if there's any empty rooms.”

“No, stop. It's okay, I'm just surprised. I wasn't expecting– I mean I didn't think we'd – like that I'd actually-”

“Me either” I say quickly, “Did I just? – You put my hand there so I thought you wanted – otherwise I would never have.”

“No, that's not what I meant. I know you wouldn't. I just meant I didn't realize it would be like that – That good.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, “Okay, well it doesn't have to change anything, right? It doesn't have to be weird.”

Wait did she just say it was good?

“Yeah, of course. Agreed.”

“Okay,” the clock reads 11:14, meaning I missed my chance to wish for this to not completely ruin my friendship with Rose by three minutes, “Crap, it's late. Should I go to the other bed or –?”

She sends me an unreadable look then a shrug, “Uh sure, you can if you want to.”

“Right. Yeah I can do that,” of course that's what she wants, she's just trying to politely suggest it.

“But you can stay too. Like it wouldn't bother me, if you stayed.”

Another mostly unreadable look, but her eyes are as soft as her voice. Is she feeling vulnerable too?

“And it wouldn't freak you out to wake up next to me after this?”

“Only one way to find out.” Her voice is lighter, her face more relaxed. She seems okay, maybe she's just surprised like she said.

My chuckle rolls into a small smile, and the moment feels diffused. But then Rose rolls away to throw on her clothes, and when she lies down again, her back is still to me. Worry quickly wins out.

What do I do? Something, anything to acknowledge what happened between us. My hand covers her arm and my chin rests on her shoulder, “You sure you're okay?”

She replies with only a nod at first, not exactly convincing. But then she pulls my arm fully around her, and I take the hint to stop talking. My lips plant a light kiss to the same spot where my hand held her shoulder before my body settles in snugly behind her.

This doesn't feel completely in shambles, but certainly not fully resolved either. Rose flips the lamp light switch on the bedside table and the room goes dark. Now I'm left with only my thoughts, and they aren't the kindest to me.

**...**

My alarm goes off at 7:30 the next morning, and it only takes a second for me to remember what happened the night before.

A quick turn leaves me unsettled, because the bed is empty, and the pillow beside me still slightly indented from Rose's head resting on it. Her soccer bag is gone from its former resting place on the desk across the room.

I guess that's a yes to freaking out about waking up next to me after last night then.

Shit, what have I done?


	9. Stuck in the Middle with You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose is red with rage, while Son's feeling blue.  
> Never fun guessing whether Rose hates you.

_I guess that's a yes to freaking out about waking up next to me after last night then._

_Shit, what have I done?_

My head is spinning, my pulse is racing, and I feel as empty as the room around me. Guess I better see if the “guru” knows how to handle this:

Sonnett: 911

Kelley: Uh oh. Did you survive dinner okay?

Sonnett: Barely, but then other things happened

Kelley: Like?

Sonnett: THINGS

Kelley: Oh my. Gardening things?

Sonnett: No. Sex things you idiot.

Kelley: Dude I was keeping up your code

Sonnett: No time for that

Kelley: Whatever. Come over?

Sonnett: I'll be there in 5.

Kelley: Do NOT be here in 5. 15 at earliest.

Kelley: Please confirm receipt.

Sonnett: Got it.

Wonder what's going on over there...

**...**

“Jesus Christ, Son, you did a chokehold? On Rose?” Kelley's shocked. Thank God Abby headed out to meet Becky shortly after my arrival. Both because I need all of Kelley's attention to solve this crisis for me, and because I'm all too happy to limit the amount of people to hear about last night.

“Not exactly. It wasn't a full choke, just a hold.”

“On her throat?”

“Yeah.” Her look lets me know she's going to go ahead and continue to classify it as a chokehold.

“And she let you?” Fair question, I was surprised too.

“She liked it. I think. It seemed like she liked it. Fuck, I hope she liked it.”

Kelley runs her hand through her hair and looks puzzled, like she can't quite picture it happening. Eventually she raises both eyebrows and chuckles, “Wow, not going to lie, I didn't know you had it in yah.”

“Okay, one, you don't know me like that and, two, it's not funny because I have corrupted Rose and probably ruined sex for her so... please help."

Kelley still seems to be struggling with comprehension, “I don't even understand how this happened. When you left here I thought for sure you were going to shit your pants at dinner and then cry yourself to sleep afterwards.”

I'd be mad at Kelley right now if I didn't completely agree, “You and me both. But then when we got back she started kissing me out of nowhere and- things happened.”

“Interesting. So what's the problem if she liked the ch-, uh, hold?”

“Primarily the fact that she was nowhere to be found this morning.”

“Did you sleep in the same bed after too?”

“Yeah, but why does that matter? The problem is that she dipped out this morning.”

“Just want to make sure I've got all the facts.”

“Okay perv.”  
  


“That's not even remotely how I meant it.”

“Good, you're too old to be acting creepy.”

Kelley sighs and asks, “Why am I helping you again?” Like she doesn't secretly _love_ being consulted about this type of thing.

“Fine sorry, I don't know what to do when I see her. I don't know what the hell happens next. How do I act? What do I say? How do I fix it?”

“I know you're not going to like this answer, but I think if she started things yesterday and left this morning, the ball is kind of in her court. I think you just carry on with your day and see what she does. Who knows, maybe something came up this morning. So I guess to answer your questions: act normal, say nothing, and don't assume it's broken. Just wait it out. Let her come to you.”

“You realize you're talking to me, right? Literally the most anxiety prone human on the planet with the actual phobia of freaking out their lady friends with their gayness.”

“Sure do, answer is still the same. Because there's not much else you can do. It only makes things worse if you try to force it.”

“Yeah but what does she want? Like why start things physically if she's just going to run off in the morning?”

“I can't answer that for you, bud. But it sounds like she might still be trying to figure that out too. You'll probably have to talk about it at some point. Try not to get too hung up on it in the meantime. You know how these things tend to go.”

“Things work out in the end? It just takes time?”

“Yup, pretty much.”

“Ugh don't quit your day job.”

“I never said I could read the future so, don't know what you were expecting. Keep me posted though.”

“Why, so you get your gossip fix?”

“No, so I can prevent you from actually having a shit your pants and cry yourself to sleep situation on your hands. Nobody wants that- that's just messy _and_ sad.”

My sigh is more of a deflation in realizing there's no easy solution here, “Alright, I'll let you know.”

Why can't there just be a manual on what to do the morning after you hook up with your presumably straight best friend and then they sneak out on you?

**...**

Thankfully, we discover that Becky and Abby started up a four person table for breakfast. I'm quick to slide in next to Becky with my back to the restaurant entrance. Probably best if I don't see Rose coming anyways. I saw plenty of that yesterday and look where it landed me. Oof, sorry, sometimes I make crude jokes when I'm spiraling.

Agility day came early for me this week, because my knees are bouncing up and down so furiously beneath the table Kelley immediately mouths “chill out”. I don't. And to say I'm nervous to see Rose is a massive understatement. I'm terrified, and flinch every time someone walks in.

I hear them walking up, the crew. We're always the loudest group of humans in any given space, in any given situation, basically just any time, ever. Lindsey's laugh booms out like thunder, whereas Mal's is far girlier, but equally damaging to one's eardrums. Sam's is the most adorkable thing you'll ever hear, and Rose's is- absent. I don't hear her at all.

The three of them stop by for a minute to say hi and give us crap about not getting a bigger table and saving them seats. We claim we're tired, it wasn't intentional, we plopped down at the first open table we came across. Besides, they went to Starbucks without us, and have no problem flaunting the evidence right in our faces, so they're equally guilty. It's our own fault for not checking the group chat though, so we reach a peace treaty, and they head over to sit at a nearby table.

Where's Rose? Isn't she with them?

Oh no, maybe she's run off without telling anyone where she went. Maybe she won't make it to breakfast. What about practice? She can't just not show up. I should go find her. Or better yet, I should have someone else go find her because I'm the moron she ran off from in the first place.

But then, a soft graze tickles the back of my hand, and something is set on the table just in front of it. Ah, that's the scent of the hand lotion I always steal from Rose, I love that stuff- _oh crap, it's Rose_ **.** Though brief, the touch immediately sends a shock wave of want for yesterday through my body. The want to go back, to relive what I did to Rose, to let Rose do what I stopped her from doing to me, and to completely stop the entire thing before anything can happen between us at all. And _this_ is why you shouldn't sleep with your best friend. Correction, this is why _I_ shouldn't sleep with my best friend.

My eyes open, didn't even realize they were closed. It's a Starbucks coffee that she set in front of me. That she set down and walked away from without saying a word. So she was with them. What does it mean? Are we good?

The need to know speaks for me, “What's this?”

She turns back slightly. Yes, look at me. Tell me we're okay. With your words, or your eyes, or any way you want. Just please tell me we're okay.

“Coffee.”

Gotta love a one word answer, although I did set myself up for it. Her voice isn't ice cold, but not exactly warm. There's no scowl, but no smile. It's neutral, and does nothing to reassure me. If she knows I'm looking for affirmation, she ignores it.

And then she's gone, turned away again and heading off to sit with the others.

She brought me coffee? It's thoughtful I guess, but she also could have woken me up to join them on the outing and didn't. I'd have welcomed the pillow to the face method she usually employs to wake someone up in such a situation if it meant not drowning in uncertainty like I am currently.

What about the touch? Could have been accidental, but it also could have been intentional. Could have been a sign. Kelley simply shrugs when I send her a questioning look. She's probably running a similar analysis, albeit far less distressedly if I had to guess.

Oh! Rose is looking over from her table. Okay, don't wave, I'm not a child who wants to play with her at recess. Definitely don't do the douchey head nod, I'm not some frat boy that wants her to be my booty call (cough, Kelley prior to dating Abby). I guess I could just– fuck, she looked away. Well, that was probably a really solid deer in headlights at least.

She doesn't look back, either. Not through breakfast, not on the bus ride to the training facilities, and not during the team meeting with Coach before practice. Rose is quiet today, she looks serious. Her jaw clenches periodically. Is her mind churning as much as mine is? Is she disgusted with herself for yesterday? Is she disgusted with _me_ because of yesterday? Does she completely regret it? Do I?

Only if it ruins us.

After hardly paying attention during the meeting, it becomes quite clear that I can't do this all day, I need to say something. Rose is only a couple steps ahead of me as we funnel out of the meeting room, I could just reach out and touch her shoulder if I lean into it- “Hey.”

Probably should have thought about what I was going to say prior to doing that.

“What's up?”

I should also probably let go of Rose's shoulder now considering touching her is the reason I'm in this predicament.

“You okay?”

“Yeah fine, why wouldn't I be?”

????Because we had what could be considered rough sex last night and then you disappeared this morning????

“Uh no, I don't know, you just seem quiet today.” Oh God, she looks like she's about to shoot lasers out of her eyes at me. Better change topics, “Anyways, thanks for the coffee.”

“Lindsey got it for you, I just carried it in.”

“Alright, thanks for carrying it in then.”

“No problem. I need to go get tape for my hammy so-”

“Rose wait, can we talk later?” Get that damn hand off her shoulder again.

“About what?”

Wow, she won't even look at me. She signals to Mal that she'll be there in a minute. Her face almost looks pained by the close proximity to me. Like I'm the last person she wants to be talking to. Like I'm... an obligation.

Is she serious right now?

“Right, got it, never mind.”

**...**

Out on the field, we pair off for some passing and trapping warm up drills. Rose claims Sam as her partner as fast as I grab for Lindsey. Sorry Mal, she'll figure it out.

My traps are for shit this morning, probably because my focus is on trying to see if I can overhear Rose's conversation with Sam. I cannot, so I might as well start one of my own.

“Thanks for the coffee, bud.”

“What coffee?” Lindsey is making me look so bad with a perfect chest trap, knee bump, and foot pass back combo.

“The one from Starbucks this morning, I heard you got it for me.” I manage a foot stall trap, followed by a high flick into the air and then a solid header back. There we go, much better.

“Nice, and no, I was _going_ to get your coffee, but Rose insisted that she get it for you. Apparently I was 'going to get the wrong thing'. Like I don't know your order.” Lindsey's eye roll makes me smile. It was definitely an adjustment for her when Rose and I started becoming close friends, and hints of a turf war still flare up from time to time.

“I take my coffee black. Not too difficult to memorize.”

“Exactly. And you need dark roast because light roast actually has more caffeine and you're already spastic enough without the extra oomph. Which obviously I already knew, but starting my day at odds with Rose didn't sound appealing so- I got you next time.”

“Yeah. I get that.” Wayyy more than Lindsey realizes.

“She even gave Sam sass this morning. Sam. Like how? Anyways, tread lightly.”

“Will do, thanks for the heads up.” Too bad _I'm_ the reason she's on a rampage today.

So, if I'm gathering correctly, Rose will hardly talk to or look at me, bullied her way into getting me a coffee this morning, and then denied getting it for me when I thanked her for it. What is happening?

The mixed messages continue through practice...

At our first break, Rose and Mal are standing over by the water bottles as I approach. Rose, being closest, hands one over to Mal. Aw, how thoughtful. And look, she didn't even pretend to be Lindsey while doing it.

I could absolutely just jog right on by and around to the other side of the table, or even to another water station altogether, but that would mean letting Rose impact my day. Kelley told me to act normal, and normal Sonnett would walk right up and ask Rose to hand me a water bottle. So that's what I'm going to do, and it's not at all about trying to force Rose to acknowledge I exist and enter into a civil conversation with Mal as a witness.

“Sup guys, hey can you pass me one too, Rose?”

She's already a full two steps into her departure when she responds, “No,” back over her shoulder.

Mal, however, remains by my side, “Yikes, are _you_ the reason she's so irritated today? What did you do?”

“Exist.”

Mal chuckles and shakes her head at me, “Don't worry Sonny, I still love you.”

“Yeah, you too, thanks Mal.”

Later on, we are divvied up into teams for half field scrimmages. Kelley is on the opposing team, so we partake in some shit talking while the fields are set up. I'm doing pretty well too, which isn't really an accomplishment if I'm being honest. Kelley tends to land herself in over her head when it comes to talking smack. She does a far better job of getting into people's heads when she just acts like her usual intense self.

Anyways, I'm clearly the victor, until I trip over something, which obviously isn't my own feet, and fall backwards. It's fine, I recover into a flawless backwards somersault. See? Agility day.

In the end, all Kelley has to say is, “Yeah well, good luck winning when you can't even walk,” and the scales are tipped to my defeat.

People notice too, because I instantly hear a thunder laugh. When I spin around, Lindsey is indeed confirmed to be the one laughing at me. She's also pointing me out to none other than Rose. And Rose is looking over, too. Instead of laughing, however, she's wearing this little smile, like the tiniest little 'almost need a magnifying glass to see it' smile. But perhaps when you're hyper focused on whether or not someone hates you, you do notice those little things.

Suddenly I'm glad I lost to Kelley. If all it took was humiliating myself to get Rose to crack a smile, I'd have spilled orange juice all over myself at breakfast- intentionally this time. That little smile gives me hope, and it gives me the strength to approach her and Lindsey. Except maybe it's more that it makes me weak, because I'm fully aware that I shouldn't be doing this. I should be giving her space like Kelley advised, but I simply cannot miss out on a potential opportunity to get us back on speaking terms.

When I arrive, Lindsey seizes the moment to tease me about tripping, and Rose uses it to peel off and talk to Tobin. Poor choice, it's not weird at all if I drag Lindsey over to talk with our fellow Torn. It's maybe a little desperate, sure, but that's exactly how I'm feeling. So I ignore Kelley's glare from across the field and move full steam ahead.

Apparently, Rose is only looking for a quick check-in with Tobin. That or she saw Lindsey and I joining. Either way, she high fives Tobes and darts off to engage in what sounds like a strategic discussion with Ertzy.

Well played, Rose. Because I might not be the absolute brightest of the bunch, pretty hard to be with Becky around, but I know better than to interrupt a tactical conversation that involves Julie Ertz. She can and will make you sorry you did.

Okay then, I'm done approaching Rose. For real this time.

And it doesn't count as an approach when I run up to check on Rose after she goes down hard during the scrimmage. This is different, this is me coming to her defense.

It's a classic newbie move, trying to prove that you can hang with Rose at your first camp, only to get diced up and then foul her to save face. And I'm quick to call it out, “You better cut that shit out or you're going to be the reason the US doesn't have Rose Lavelle on our World Cup roster. Can't imagine that being good for your chances on making the team considering none of us would be willing to play with you.”

Whoops, might have been a _little_ harsh there, but it elicits a much deserved apology to Rose, “Sorry Rose.”

“It's alright.” It really isn't though, and it's infuriating how quick Rose is to forgive it considering she's still on the ground, wincing in pain and holding at her hamstring.

My body lowers into a crouching position with my arm extended to help Rose up, “You okay?”

For a second, I think Rose is about to take my hand, allow me to help her up, and maybe even thank me for having her back. But then, rookie of the year trots off, and fury is unleashed.

I wish we could go back to the neutrality of Rose's conduct this morning. Because right now she's not neutral. No, right now she's seething, “Sonnett, stop hovering. I'm fine, I'd be even better if you would quit asking me that.”

She says it like I'm embarrassing her, like I'm one of those deranged parents who screams at the other team's players in a U-8 league. Okay, maybe that was a bad example. Regardless, Rose completely leaves me hanging, and stubbornly stands up on her own.

Also- did she just call me Sonnett? We've regressed from Em to Sonnett overnight? _Not_ a good sign.

She's clearly still in pain though, maybe she'll admit it if I bring it up first, “My bad then, I thought maybe you hurt your hamstring again.”

She quickly snaps back, “Well I didn't,” and then proceeds to gingerly jog away.

And now I'm officially getting pissed. If she gets herself seriously injured from her unwillingness to admit she needs to get checked out just because she hates me right now, I swear to God I will headbutt someone Zidane style. My frustration leads to an unintelligent decision to call after her, “You sure about that?”

Seems Coach has a similar thought, thankfully, because she takes Rose out to get looked at soon after. Rose refuses to look at me as she walks by with the trainer, and I force myself to look away as well, lest the “that's what I thought” hanging on my lips accidentally spill out.

She's able to rejoin the team for cool down and our resistance training session after lunch since we're working on upper body today. We start to cycle through our stations. At some point, the order gets jumbled, because when I lower the iPad outlining our workouts, I find myself happening upon Rose.

Okay, someone fucked this all up, because I'm supposed to be trailing Christen. And now Rose is probably going to think I'm stalking her when I'm not, anymore. There aren't any other open stations for me to run off to, either, I did a full spin to scout out my options.

It's fine, I'll hang back and wait for her to clear out. Yeah, I'll just keep staring at my iPad like it's taking me this long to read through my next workout. But after a couple nervous glances in Rose's direction, I realize she's still down on one knee bent over the box of resistance bands. What is she do- she's totally stuck down in a kneeling position because of her hamstring, isn't she?

God knows I'll get my head chopped off if I try to ask her what's wrong, or worse, offer to help. Nope, better make it seem like I need her help finding the right resistance band to use while I scope the situation out. Here goes nothing, wish me luck.

“Hey, do you happen to know which color band to use for-”

“Here,” Rose's hand hits my arm as she windmills it backwards with the blue band clutched in her fist.

Yep, she's definitely stuck. Well, I'll be right here to help whenever she's decides to grow up and stop being so thickheaded.

“Thanks,” my voice is borderline chipper, because I'm just going to let her reflect on her behavior so far today as I carry on with my exercises until she's ready to- use a viselike grip to lock my hand in hers when she feels me go to take the band.

I'm then quickly pulled down until I'm kneeling beside Rose. She doesn't say a word, and she doesn't loosen her grip on my hand. I'll take this as Rose's version of “asking” for my assistance. She clearly doesn't want to talk, about the current situation or anything else for that matter, so I pretend to adjust my shoe in silence. I then wrap a supporting arm around her back and ask, “Ready?”

She nods yes, and I slowly lift her up as I stand seconds later. She finally looks at me once we're both upright, our faces inching closer as we turn them towards one another. My arm remains tight around her back as she tests how much weight she can put on her leg and my eyes are glued to hers for any hint of how she's feeling. I will absolutely pick her up and carry her to the trainers if necessary. But Rose eventually seems comfortable with her ability to stand normally, and proceeds to flash this 'I just scared myself and I'm done being a dumb-dumb now, so please be nice to me' smile.

Her cuteness quells my urge to yell at her, but she's definitely earned a stern talking to, “Go ice. Now.” I undoubtedly sound like a parent this time, but I don't care. She can hate me all she wants, she's done working out for today.

“I am.” Her voice is softer than mine just was, and it's far softer than she's spoken to me all day. She has her chin tucked a bit, and she kinda looks like a dog feeling guilty after you catch them eating an entire tray of hot dogs you just grilled.

And while it may all simply be in attempt to keep from drawing attention to the fact she couldn't stand up without my help, it makes me soften in return, “Good. I'll let Dawn know.”

“Thank you.”

It's my intention to respond with words, but I lose them. Because I've completely forgotten our hands are still linked until Rose unexpectedly runs her thumb along the back of mine. And since I can't manage the talking thing after feeling it, my hand lightly squeezes Rose's in reply.

My mind then flashes to what Rose and I were doing the last time our bodies were this close, and it forces my realization that I want to do those things again. Oh, that's not good.

Rose turns and carefully walks off to take an ice bath, but not before she catches me looking at her lips. And not before I notice her glancing back at mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, Hello, How are you? Yes, you! Just checking in to see 1. Are you enjoying this? 2. Should I continue writing this? And 3. Are you watching the Challenge Cup? If so, who are you rooting for? I feel like my allegiance changes every game. But one thing's for sure- Lori Lindsey is bae.


	10. The Fine Lines of Fragility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Son's a lil stressed. And you know what desperate times call for...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice I've included a couple current day references while this story is set before the 2019 WC for now. Sorry if that's confusing- some of the stuff just made its way in. Because how could it not?

I swear when Rose looked at my lips earlier, I could feel hers pressed against them again.

Like yesterday was happening all over.

Like I was still above her, looking down and watching the red flush up Rose's neck as she held her breath in right before she came.

Like I was hearing her finally release that exhale when she couldn't bear it any longer, when she held the pillow to her face even tighter to smother the moaning that escaped with it.

Like my hand was just landing on her throat, and my forearm was just being squeezed by Rose's hand wrapping around it in return.

Like her nails were still digging into my skin just before dropping to grip the sheets even harder while she came for me.

Like I had just pulled the pillow off her face, and she was still frantic, still far from coming down, still looking up at me with those-

Ow! Shit, the tip of my thumb is completely white and deeply indented from being bitten, hard. It aches as blood slowly creeps back into it's normal route of circulation. My weight shifts quickly against my seat, and I'm hoping my mind will mirror the motion internally.

Are we almost back to the hotel yet? I need to get off this bus. And I sure as hell need to stop thinking about last night, it's not going to happen again. It can't, because we can't be a mess like this all the time. We need to be good. I _want_ us to be good... more than I want to fuck Rose again, and more than I want her to fuck me. I think.

No, I _know._ They're just different wants. And right now my body is wanting- badly. That will go away though, right?

Yeah, of course it will.

Also, what even was that? A flashback within a flashback? Rose _would_ get me on some Inception shit. Well, maybe that means I'll get lucky and wake up to find this is all a dream...

Whoops, Kelley is looking at me like I'm a total basket case right now.

“What's up?”

“We need to talk.”

“Okay what do you want to-”

“Shh, no. Not here,” she replies. Like she's a CIA agent protecting top secret information from public release.

We pull into the hotel parking lot moments later, and Kelley holds her arm out when I go to exit our row to get off the bus. She waits until all the others have cleared out. Abby seems to pick up on the fact that Kelley's in the throes of something, because she gives me an inquisitive look on her way by. I simply shrug in reply. Who knows with Kelley. And no, Rose didn't look at me when she exited.

Finally, Kelley gets up and we step off the bus. She hip bumps me sideways when I make for the hotel entrance, “Why don't we go for a little stroll in the park.”

Am I about to get knocked off? “Because we just ran eight miles at practice?”

“Trust me, you'll want the extra steps today.”

I hate whatever this is already. We walk on in silence for almost a full minute, until I can't take it anymore, “Kelley, what do you-”

“Did I ever tell you about when I realized Abby was interested in me?”

My eyes roll so hard. Is she serious? She couldn't brag about her relationship in the hotel? “No, but something tells me I'm about to find out all about your perfect romance.”

But then Kelley gets skittish, “Fine, no need to discuss it then if you don't want to know.”

Why is she getting so squirmy over this? Unless she-

“Ohh- it's embarrassing for you, isn't it?” Her frown confirms it.

“Tell me everything.”

Kelley sighs, as though recalling something painful, “It started at a team party, actually. We were playing Never Have I Ever. Pinoe insisted on going first and kicked off with 'Never have I ever slept with a woman'. I don't think she understood that she was supposed to try to make _others_ drink and not herself. Either that or she just wanted to get drunk. You know how she is.”

“Anyways, she slammed her drink. Then Tobin and I drank too, obviously. But then Abby drank as well- not so obvious. Everyone lost their shit and demanded details. She responded collectedly as always, refusing to give anything concrete. She simply said, 'Why are you guys so surprised? Have I ever said I was straight?'”

“We all looked around at each other shocked to all hell. And finally Pinoe said, 'Mmhmm. Sorry to tell you, babe, but you're the type of girl that needs to say something if you aren't straight. Cuz otherwise we don't know.'”

“Abby shrugged and said, 'I just date who I'm into, doesn't have to be a big thing right? I mean assuming they're into me back of course.' The team was instantly supportive and agreed with her. Except me, I couldn't hold it in, this loud ass laugh. Because it was hilarious to me, the thought of someone not being interested in Abby. So, like an idiot, I asked her who has ever not been into her back.”

“She gave me this weird look and said, 'I don't know, I'll have to start paying better attention and get back to you on that. Hopefully they'll be paying attention too.' Pinoe snorted, and said 'Trust me, whoever it is will be paying plenty of attention.' Abby just said, 'I guess we'll see.'”

“And I remember I almost spit out the sip of water I had taken because Abby looked at me when she said it. And then she smiled at me after.”

“Oh shittt, Abby totally meant you! Also, I remember that party. Kind of. I think I was throwing up when you guys were playing that. So that's when you knew though?”

“Oh hunny, no. That's when I _wished_. I was so terrified it took me months to finally talk to her about things and ask her out. And when I finally did, she was shocked I was interested, because she had been trying to send me signals that I was not picking up on. So she thought I just wasn't into her. Do you catch my drift here?”

“Uh, that I should try to suss out Rose's sexuality during a team game of Never Have I Ever?”

Kelley sighs again, this time angrily, “No, Sonnett. The point is that everybody gets a little scared when they like someone. And in Rose's case, she could be just as scared by the possibility that she does like you as she might be that you don't like her back. That's a lot to sort through. I know it's the worst and hardest thing ever, but just give her space to breathe while she figures it out. Like seriously, cannot stress that enough, Rose absolutely strikes me as the type of dog that will bite when cornered.”

“Also don't tell anyone what you learned here today, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Your secret's safe with me. Thanks dude. Didn't want to share that with me earlier though?”

“This information is shared on a need to know basis only. And the only reason you needed to know is because you became an emergency situation.”

Okay, I've got this. Things will work out, just act normal and give Rose space. Easy.

**…**

Question, how do I respect Rose's space while acting normal? Because normally we're stuck to each other like glue. And normally I try to divide my time up between Lindsey and Rose as evenly as possible. I've been around Lindsey for the vast majority of the day, so the solution to the current dilemma is to choose Rose- normally, that is.

What's the current dilemma, you ask? There's two remaining seats to choose from at our group hang: one by Rose and the other by Lindsey. My head oscillates between them like one of those cheap fans you buy despite knowing it will break and get stuck facing in one direction for the rest of eternity.

What's that now? It's not like my anxiety ridden brain to not anticipate this type of scenario and go full out flying squirrel to ensure I'm seated by Kelley so as to avoid conflict?

Right you are, but Tobin just _had_ to show me her latest line of rainbow art right as seats were being selected. I gotta admit, it's pretty cool, but- lesbian much?

Tobin, of course, has Christen saving a seat for her. I should go cut in and sit there as payback. Except sulky Tobin is a real buzzkill. And not sitting by Christen will absolutely make her sulk, so I won't do that... to anyone.

Ugh, blank look from Rose, is this a test? What does she want from me? Maybe no hint is a good hint and I should sit by her... or does that concept only apply to news?

“Sonny, want to maybe sit your ass down sometime tonight?” It's Lindsey, she's tapping the open space beside her.

“Right, yeah. Coming.” If I'm being beckoned over, I might as well comply. Rose didn't even glance my way to counter Lindsey's comment, so this feels like the right move.

Ah there's a look from Rose now that I'm seated, scowl, rather. Nothing to gain by responding to that, best to let it go and continue talking with Lindsey.

Yet suddenly, my foot is assaulted by Rose's. What the fuck was that for? Did I fail the test? Oh, sure Rose, look away now that you have my attention. K... She's playing games. So childish.

Normally I'd ignore it, rise above it, be the bigger person. Normally, I'd let Rose have her little tantrum and get away with it, but not today. Today Rose gets called on her shit, “What?”

“What?” Rose faces me and repeats the question back. She sounds confused, but she knows damn well what. How else would she have even known I was talking to her?

“Don't act like you didn't do anything. You just gave me a rude look and kicked me. What do you want?”

Rose counters, “I don't want anything, especially if you're going to act like that.”

The denial is implied, but not outright stated. She's not lying while still delivering the intended message. She took away my rebuttal. It's like she studied law.

And now I'm the one scowling, because she's trying to make it look like it's me who's been hostile all day. Not trying, succeeding.

My mouth drops open, I'm not sure what's about to come out of it. But the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when I realize literally everyone is looking at me. Oh, other than Tobin, who's still grinning as she whispers in Christen's ear. Ohp, nope, she just got hushed and looked over in my direction. _Now_ everyone's looking at me.

Kelley is shaking her head side to side, signaling to stop. Her eyes are saying, “You've got to be kidding me, we just talked about this.” She's right.

“Ha. Obviously I'm just joking.”

Rose raises her eyebrows in silence. The quiet victim. Poor her.

Screw you, Rose.

The strange looks sent my way subside as side conversations resume. Rose has long since looked away to chat with Mal.

Lindsey leans over and whispers, “What's up with you? That was _weird_.”

“Nothing. Caffeine crash. Rose must have gotten me light roast this morning to mess with me.”

“Maybe we should switch you to tea,” Lindsey considers as she throws an arm around me, pulls me against her side, and pats my shoulder.

Fucking seriously? Rose is right back to glaring at me now that the group's attention is elsewhere. The only reason I don't try to point it out is because I'll look like a lunatic when Rose wipes the floor with me again.

“Yeah, maybe so.”

Lindsey gives me a concerned look. She must have read my tone, because she seems to know something's off. She's tactful, and she's not cruel like someone else I know. She's not going to try to pull it out of me in front of the team. She instead pulls a pillow from behind Sam, prompting a complaint, “What the heck!?”

“You're fine,” Lindsey informs as she sets it beside her and then leads me in until I'm rested against it. Her arm drapes around me again, and suddenly I feel like a baby being swaddled. Except I'm an adult. Being cuddled by my best friend. Because I'm a damn mess.

Everything I do is wrong in Rose's eyes today, according to the grimace she sends me the next time she looks over. It's like I've personally offended her without saying a word.

And suddenly, I feel like a pot of pasta you left on too high of heat, like I'm about to start bubbling over so furiously that I'll completely blow my lid off.

My body starts rising before I even speak, “I'm actually going to head back and go to bed. Not feeling great- massive headache.” My face turns to Rose as I say the last bit. She shows the slightest sign of comprehension when her eyes narrow.

“All good, get some rest,” Lindsey says protectively, before anyone can give me a hard time. She doesn't realize the person most likely to give me crap will be happy to have me gone.

“Night guys.”

“Feel better, Son,” the group says in unison. Save for one voice that remains silent. I'll let you guess who.

“Thanks.”

At least _some_ people care about me.

**…**

Back in my room, I'm doing a phenomenal job of not relaxing as I lie in bed praying to either be struck down or lulled to sleep. I'll take either resolution at this point.

My phone goes off mid plea, which is probably a good thing. That was getting a little dark.

False, not a good thing. It's a text from Spawn of Satan.

Rose: **.**

What kind of sick mindfuck is this?

This could be so many things. It could be an “I'm sorry for being a dick”, or an “Are you okay?”, or a classic “Just casually checking in while avoiding the glaring issues between us.”

And why stop the theorizing there? We're having fun, right?

It could just as easily be an “I'm sorry you have a headache because I know I caused it” as it could be an “I'm glad you have a headache and I _hope_ I caused it”.

It could even be an “I'm working through some things, but I promise we'll be fine.”

I'm over it, and I'm over her, and I'm _not_ responding...

Until twenty minutes later when I text her back.

Sonnett: **.**

Why did I just do that? I don't even know what that means.

Did I say “Shove off with your riddles.”? Did I say “You mean the world to me and I don't want to lose you.”? Did I say “I'm gucci.”? Did I say “It's okay if you need time, just stop being a dickhead while you process.”?

Who's to say? Apparently not me.

If I didn't have one before, I certainly have a headache now.

And then she likes it. No typed reply, just the like- which does nothing to clear up what either of us are trying to say.

God dammit, why did she have to text me when I'm trying (and failing) to sleep? She's already in my head enough- nonstop even. Now I know she's sitting in a room full of our teammates, thinking of me. And it's just not fair, because I don't need another reminder of her. Of how badly I want her... still, despite being irritated at her beyond belief.

Why didn't I just let her touch me? Now I might never- no I'll _for sure_ never know what it feels like.

My hand's run off in frustration. I should have known it would try to flee. I should have had it tethered tighter, and now there's no stopping it. I know where it's going, I know what it's doing, and I know that it shouldn't.

But now it's there, and I'm wet. Ridiculously wet, as though my body's just been sitting here waiting like a car in idle, ready to go on the off chance Rose's fingers return.

On the off chance she'd glide them along me, back and forth, repeatedly. Nice and steady, likely ignoring any and all requests from me to go faster.

On the off chance she'd make me- Christ that feels good.

Sonnett. _No_. Stop. Please. It's only going to make things worse if I let myself come while thinking of Rose. Go take a cold shower instead.

Except my body's downright dying to continue being touched. Perhaps it's better if I give it what it wants rather than carry on with this exorbitant amount of sexual desperation for Rose coursing through it. Maybe if I get it out of my system it will go away for good, maybe it will all get easier.

And it's pitiful, how quickly I come once my mind and body agree to these terms. How little it takes when I'm thinking of Rose. How good the output is compared to the input. How expeditiously my body expends it's excessive energy. How disappointingly it converts desire to dullness.

Dreary, dreadful dullness.

Because the fact remains that nothing's changed. It didn't work. At all. Rose still consumes me.

But at least coming that hard finally has me ready to fall asleep, I couldn't handle looking Rose in the eye tonight. Not after this. Tomorrow is going to be bad enough as it is.

Guess it was more of an out _come_ than an out _put_ , wasn't it? Wait, no, don't laugh at that, it will only encourage me.

And yes _,_ the only reason I know the word expeditiously is because of a Justin Bieber song. Sue me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowzerr – guys, thank you so much to all who have left kudos/comments/bookmarks on this story, it is so greatly appreciated and super helpful/motivating as I continue writing it. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter. How we feeling?... As strung out as Sonny? Ready for some resolution? Craving more angst? Really sad that Portland lost and Horan didn't play but also really excited for a Dash v Red Stars final? Anything else? Let me know in the comments!
> 
> Also, if you are looking for something great to read from a bomb writer... I happen to know this person working on a Lucy Bronze/Kelley O'Hara fic called Points of Contention. Super fun dynamic & l mighttt have seen her outline... it's legit, people.


	11. Collecting Clues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things get worse before they get better... and sometimes they get harder before they get soft.

My body bolts upright in bed when an unidentified clatter wakes me with a start.

It's Rose!.. in our hotel room!.. with the candlestick!! Ah, we're not in the final stages of a riveting game of Clue, are we? Well, _that_ was a realistic dream then. Ew, it's just after 6 a.m., which is definitely too early for murder mysteries. It's too early to be out of bed at all. But since Rose isn't in hers, I suppose I should probably go confirm she hasn't actually been murdered by whatever caused the commotion.

Everything about me is sleepy, including my hobble across the room. At least I don't have to go very far. A sliver of light beams out beneath the bathroom door. Seems we have our location. Right as I'm about to knock, the door flies open and makes me jump for the second time in such a short span of consciousness.

Rose holds her hand to her heart as she springs back in response, clearly as startled by me as I am by her, “God, you scared me!”

“For fuck's sake.. what's going on in there?”

“There's a.. bug.” She's brandishing a hairbrush in front of her like it's a sword. Weapon identified. She definitely should have gone with the candlestick. One should _always_ opt for the candlestick.

“Did you get it?” A quick peek around Rose sets the scene quite well. The ice bucket is on the floor- surely the source of the noise that woke me up. The shower curtain is in complete disarray- an errant strike written all over it. There are q-tips literally everywhere with the half empty bag sitting beside the ice bucket- likely thrown into the air when the bug was initially spotted. Like, who packs that many q-tips for one camp though?

Rose uses my body being leaned to one side while I examine the crime scene- I mean bathroom- as an opportunity to skirt around me and distance herself from the 'threat', “No. I missed.”

And with that, she's gone, squeezing my arm as she disappears back into our room. Guess I'm taking things from here then. Good morning to you too by the wayyy. Somebody kill me... and make sure they refer to me as _Detective_ Emily Sonnett in my obituary too. I've earned it.

Rose watches me as I walk out of the bathroom after disposing of the body and freshening up a bit. Because of course I have to do her dirty work for her. And if she's trying to conceal her chuckle with a closed mouth grin, she's failing.

“Situation's contained. Other than your q-tip avalanche, that's all you.”

“Got it, thank you.” Do not smile back at her.

“Mhm. What are you doing up so early in the first place?” My voice sounds gravely meets groan, and I'm good with it given the current situation.

“I have to see the trainers for an eval before breakfast.”

“...Because you hurt your hamstring yesterday.” Fricken knew it.

“No, I didn't. It just so happens to be bothering me a little bit right now, so Coach wants me to get it checked out before practicing today.” Sounds like we're in for another day of denial then. Cool-cool-cool. At least I don't have to check the weather forecast, I can already tell you that heavy cloudiness and scattered shitstorms are imminent.

“Right, well here's to hoping it _just so happens_ to get better then,” the words come out dripping with sarcasm. And it's like my brain recovers from temporary amnesia because, just like that, my level of frustration with Rose skyrockets.

Rose frowns, “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“I wonder why that is.”

“Wow, go back to sleep then. I'm leaving.”

“Yup, planning to. Bye.” My back turns to Rose without further delay. Passing out for another hour sounds splendid. Except there's no swishing of Rose grabbing her bag and speeding off.

“Son..”

Something about the way Rose's voice almost seems to ache makes me stop in my tracks, “What?”

Her hand hooks around my elbow and pulls me back to face her, and then her arms are wrapping around me before I can react. My hands hang uselessly, in fact, far too caught off guard to participate whether it be to welcome or deter her.

Rose steps closer, tightens her hold on my back, and rests her chin on my shoulder. She's hugging me. Why is she hugging me?

I want to push her away from me and end the contact between us immediately.

I want to pull her further into me and never let her go.

My arms are around Rose's shoulders before my brain can decide between the two options. Rose tips her head forward until her lips are pressed against my shoulder, right where her chin previously rested. It's less of a kiss and more like she's trying to burrow her head into me. Ugh, it's absolutely adorable.

Suddenly, my body's synapses are firing on all cylinders. For I've gone from devoid of Rose to sensory overload in the best way. I feel her everywhere, I _want_ her everywhere. And it's so damn easy to lose control.

Rose's canines dig directly into the flesh of my shoulder out of nowhere, with my tank top providing no buffer- no barrier. The unfiltered contact is sharp and sends shivers down my spine. If Rose were a vampire I'd so let her turn me. We could fu- uh, we could be friends forever. She's certainly pale enough, and pretty enough, and smart enough and cunning enough. Wait, _is_ she a vampire? TBD on that, I'll let you know if I'm craving blood later.

Now a kiss to the same spot, as though to soothe the pain. More shivers result though the stimulation contrasts. Now more kisses, light and brief, working their way inward. Working their way up my neck until she seems to have arrived at her intended destination. Now she's kissing and sucking there. Hard. My breath hitches immediately.

“Rose..”

No reply. She's either too engrossed in what she's doing to hear me say her name or too uninterested in talking to acknowledge it.

Fuck. My pulse continues to pick up. Her hands run along my sides as she works at my neck. She reaches my nipples quickly and pinches. My tank top again does nothing to impede the advance, not that I'm complaining. My eyelids flutter reflexively until closing completely.

“Fuck,” this time it's audible. It's so good, all of it. She bites me again, eliciting a throaty moan in reply. I want her so badly right now.

But what the hell are we doing? For one thing, she's about to give me a really bad hickey if I don't put an end to this, “Rose!”

Her eyes open as my light push sends her stumbling back a step, “Hmm?”

“What are you doing?”

She pauses, frowns, and then shoves me back- notably harder, “Nothing.”

And now there's only staring and chests rising and falling as heavy breathing passes between us.

She looks at my lips, I look back at hers. Don't do it.

In a flash, everything feels wrong: my grip on Rose's arm too tight, the force of which I pull her back into me too hard, the energy pouring into my kiss too aggressive. And it's only further amplified when Rose responds in kind: scratches on the back of my bare shoulders, teeth closing on my lip, body pressed tightly against mine.

One of my arms Heisman sweeps the counter space behind Rose, sending unknown objects plummeting off the side, while the other wraps around Rose's lower body and hoists her up. She never stops kissing me.

My turn to bite back at Rose's lip, and I want it to hurt her. I'm so fucking angry at her, at my attraction to her. I just want it all to go away.

It's too hard, as it turns out, “Ow, fuck!” Rose soon has two fingers pressed to her lower lip, and then held in front of her. I see a hint of red- I drew blood. Maybe I _am_ turning into a vampire.

I should say sorry, but I don't. Because I'm not. She raises an eyebrow at me, both of mine lift in reply, and then a swift smack lands on my cheek. Unlike my bite, it's not too hard, but every bit as hard as I deserve. Except I barely feel it I'm so turned on. And now I'm also wide awake.

Back to staring. Breathing. Waiting.

She lifts her hand to strike again but pulls back at the last second. Despite my best efforts, I flinch the most minuscule amount, which is still enough to make Rose smirk victoriously...

Until she's being carried across the room and tossed onto my bed. She sits up quickly and looks like she might take off. Look who can't hang now, “Go ahead, you want to run away? Go for it.”

Rose doesn't move a muscle. She just stares at me with clenched teeth, catching her breath. So I crawl onto the bed. And then over to Rose. She inches backwards as I top her until she's lying flat beneath me. Until I'm directly above, looking down at her once again. I love this feeling.

She wastes no time before grabbing my hand, placing it on her throat and demanding, “Fuck me.” She digs my hand into her neck with her own as though to show me how she wants it- rough. So she did like it. She's completely out of control though. _We're_ completely out of control.

This isn't what I want.

I mean it is, it one thousand percent is, but not when we're like this. Not when I'm not sure if we're good. Not when I have no idea what the hell is going on in her head.

“Let go.” She does as she's told and tips her head back just like last time. God she's making it so fucking hard to stop right now.

This time, however, my hand obeys me and traces up her throat lightly- no pressure, no choking. The underside of her jaw is smooth and soft. A curl around her chin lands my thumb on her lips and my fingers cradling her cheek. Her bottom lip quivers when my thumb journeys across it, while the breath departing her nose dashes down my hand. The little laceration from where I bit her serves as a much needed speed bump when I cross it.

I'm slowed down enough to regain control, “No.”

My hand departs her entirely, as if she's suddenly become too hot to touch.

Rose laughs, “We're back to this again? Okay, tell me you don't want me.” It's a challenge. She thinks I'm playing a game. I'm not.

My weight shifts backwards into a kneeling position, thereby relinquishing my occupation of the space above Rose, the space I'd live in if I could, “I don't want you. Not like this.”

Rose's smirk fades.

“This isn't good for us, Rose.” Her eyes narrow, and it reminds me of yesterday.

It doesn't feel like the right time to suggest it, but I want to fix us so badly, “Why don't we talk about-”

“Yeah whatever, it's fine. I gotta go anyways,” her voice is cold, distant as she pushes me fully off of her. Like she's indifferent, like this was just something she was doing to fill the time. Except it doesn't quite fit with the way her face fell in apparent disappointment for a fraction of a second just prior to doing so.

What did I do now? I'm trying to keep us from ruining our relationship entirely. I'm trying to... oh no, I'm trying to give this a chance. A real chance. That's _not_ keeping myself from getting too attached. That's the opposite.

Anddd she definitely just let the door slam behind her on her way out. As I said, it's a wonder we haven't been booted yet courtesy of Rose and her racket.

Why does doing the right thing have to mean putting a stop to what was probably about to be the best sex of my life? Now what are we supposed to do?

Sorry, that last question's not for you, it's for my distraught vagina.

Yeah agreed, cold shower it is then.

So much for going back to sleep.

**...**

And so, today quickly becomes about making myself scarce and keeping myself cognizant. It's about recognizing the reality of the situation. It's about letting go of the notion that this is going to magically work itself out. We aren't Kelley and Abby. We're Rose and fucking Sonnett.

_We're Twisted meets Timid_

_Until Timid becomes Time Bomb_

_But by then we're too tempted,_

_And we take things too far_

_The going is great,_

_But the after is awful_

_Before we know it we'll break_

_With wounds so deep that they'll scar_

OH. Don't mind me, just rapping out the worst case scenario on my way to Kelley's room in hope of avoiding night terrors...

You know, as one does.

Kelley answers the door, _finally_ , with an appalled look on her face, “Son, what the fu-”

“She liked it. We have confirmation- she liked the throat thing. She's also a biter, you were totally right. She definitely bites. But that's not the worst of it. She _hugged_ me. What does a fucking hug mean after- Oh shit, sorry Abby.”

Abby finishes scrambling to put on her shirt in bed and waves me in, “No worries, come on in, Son.”

Whoops. Probably shouldn't have been so quick to blow by Kelley in the doorway. Forgot they were sharing a room. Also forgot that it's still early and people might not be fully dressed yet. Feels like I've been up for hours.

Kelley throws her hands on my shoulders and shakes me, “Dude, chill. You're about to start hyperventilating and I'm telling you right now, I'm not qualified to handle that.”

She crosses back over to the bed and resettles in as Abby lightly confirms, “I do know CPR though. Just in case.”

“Nobody needs CPR,” Kelley quickly asserts.

Abby's ploys are always subtle, I have to really pay attention to read when she's trying to get a rise out of Kelley. On this occasion, I don't recognize it until I see Abby's grin pop up directly following Kelley's statement.

However, I'm quick to play along once I do, “I don't know, I could probably benefit from some mouth-to-mouth right now. Might help calm me down.”

Kelley throws her fiercest dagger eyes at me, and then quickly looks at Abby when she starts to cackle. In realizing she's being messed with, Kelley cracks a reluctant smile and grumbles, “Okay, fuck you both.”

“I mean, I _guess_ you could join too.”

“Sonnett!” It's a warning if I've ever heard one, and I take heed, but only because I desperately need help. Again.

“Okay, okay. I'm obviously kidding. But I seriously cannot with Rose anymore. It's too much.”

“What happened this time? And- maybe take a deep breath before answering that,” Kelley implores.

I definitely skip the deep breath, “What didn't happen? There was scratching and shoving and slapping and throwing and-”

“Sorry, did you just say slapping?” Kelley asks incredulously.

“Maybe.”

“Well alright then,” she throws a sideways glance at Abby.

“But I stopped it, because this is starting to get crazy. Like next level batshit crazy. And I don't want us to be like that, I just want us to be good. Why can't we just be good? Like what the hell do I need to do for us to be good?”

“Woah, Son, okay. We got you. Sit down.”

I approach the bed but then remember Abby's state from earlier, “Do you even have pants on right now?”

Kelley snorts, and Abby confirms my suspicion, “Uh, I plead the fifth.”

No wonder Kelley was being protective about the CPR. I quickly redirect myself to the chair and drop into it defeatedly.

“Just hang with us today. It's all good,” Kelley attempts to calm me down.

“I can't avoid her all night, she'll know something's off.”

“Trust me, she knows something's off. Y'all are a hot mess,” Kelley informs.

Abby sends her a stern look and suggests, “We can do a back line hangout tonight to buy you some time apart though. How does that sound?”

“It's too last minute, no one's going to-”

“I already sent the text,” Abby pauses to glance down at her phone. “And Becky says it's mandatory now, so it looks like you don't have much of a choice,” Abby confirms with a smile.

“You're the best, Abby.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

Kelley rolls her eyes but then quickly leans over to kiss Abby's cheek when she realizes Abby saw her do it.

Only then does it occur to me that Kelley's wearing a robe, and seemingly without anything underneath. Kelley in a robe plus Abby putting on a shirt and not wearing pants in bed definitely equals... means that... I just barged in on- “Oh God, sorry. You were totally- uh I'll let you two get back to.. business?”

Kelley laughs, “We were doing a boardroom role play, so I'd say business is a great word for it.”

“Gross! I do NOT need to know that.”

“She's kidding, Son,” Abby insists.

Kelley is quick to instigate, “Or am I?”

I definitely don't want to stick around to find out, because Kelley _would_ have an absurd CEO fantasy, so I hightail it to the door, “Yup barf, see y'all later!”

“Oh, Son, wait! One last thing.”

“Yes?” I cautiously poke my head back around the corner.

“There's cover-up in my makeup bag on the bathroom counter,” Abby informs.

“For what?”

“Just trust me.”

Kelley's grinning way too widely right now, “Oh- so she did leave a mark.”

“Yeah.”

Perfect.

**...**

My palms start to sweat as I head down to breakfast. But who knows, maybe I'll get lucky and Rose will still be with the trainers... I tend to have such good luck these days. At least Lindsey's meeting me in the lobby.

Oh, there's Lindsey now, chatting with- oh fuck, she's talking to Rose. Damn, some lady just stepped into the elevator I came out of too, so I can't go back in there to hide. Onward then.

Neither seems to notice me as I approach. They both seem pretty consumed by their conversation, which actually looks a little intense.

The closer I get, the better I can make out what they're saying.

“Rose if you want to, just let me know. It's not a big deal.”

“No need, we're fine.”

“You sure? I'm trying to give you an out if you need it.”

“I said we're good.” Rose's tone is somehow sharper than it was towards me earlier today. Maybe she hates everyone right now.

“Who's good?”

Rose seems startled by my voice, but quickly recovers with words of her own, “All of us.. we're all good to hang at Lindsey's tonight.”

Lindsey looks extremely annoyed right now, “Right, Sam and I are going to have people over later.”

“Oh okay.”

“I'll go let Mal know,” Rose says, and then she's quick to take her leave.

Lindsey's eyes go wide, like she just endured a lot but doesn't want to risk saying anything out loud.

Once Rose is out of earshot, I'm quick to ask for the real story, “What were you actually talking about?”

“I was offering to switch rooms with Rose if you two need a little break is all. Just thought I'd ask after last night,” Lindsey explains as we head across the lobby to the hotel restaurant.

“And, she said..?”

“She said that you guys are good and she doesn't want to switch.”

“Interesting.”

“Yeah, I was surprised too.” Lindsey pauses me just inside the restaurant entrance with a hand on my shoulder before continuing, “Look, obviously I'd rather trade with Rose so we can chill, but the offer still stands if you want to swap so you can crash with Sam for the night. Just let me know... I always got you.”

My head instantly turns to find Rose. Maybe I _should_ switch rooms with Lindsey, but I also don't want to make things worse by doing something drastic. Rose happens to glance my way shortly after I spot her sitting at a table with Mal and Sam. Her attention seems to hang around once our eyes meet. I wait for a glare, but it doesn't show. She looks uncertain. Almost fragile. What is going on with her today?

A reassuring smile instinctively finds its way to my lips, because it seems like Rose needs it, and the corner of her mouth ticks up in reply before she quickly looks away.

It's the fragment of hope I need to decline the suggestion, “Uh. No, that's okay, Linds. I think we're all set- just had an off day. Thanks though.”

“Don't say I didn't offer.”

This is messed up. I'm lying to my best friend who is going above and beyond to make sure I'm good to cover for my other best friend who is acting.. well, questionable at best. And I know why that is. It's because Rose isn't just my other best friend. I wish she were, but she isn't. She's more than that to me, and the last thing I want is to create a wedge between the two of them.

Because if I were to tell Lindsey the truth of what's going on right now, there's a good chance she'd march right over to Rose and have a very different conversation with her than just asking if she wants to trade rooms. It's a nauseating realization that, at the end of the day, my loyalty lies with a hot and cold Rose over Lindsey treating me like royalty.

It isn't right, and I hate it. I wish I could change it, but I can't.


	12. Shattered Shields

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Defenses come down unexpectedly.

My phone starts to go off rapid fire while I'm out for coffee with Kelley after practice. It warrants a quick peek to make sure it's not an emergency. Nope, just the youngins group chat blowing up.

Lindsey: My room. 8 pm. Be there or be dead to me

Sam: I'll be there. And not just because we're rooming together

Mal: Innn it to win it

Rose: Tentative

Mal: She means yes. She's sitting next to me

Sonnett: Cant. Defensive chill sesh tn. Becky says it's mandatory.. what can you do?

Lindsey: And now we're fighting again Son

Sonnett: I'm all yours tomorrow baby. Promise

Lindsey likes my text. Good, that means she's not actually mad.

And then Rose proceeds to dislike my text. _So_ unnecessary.

Lindsey: Better be.

Lindsey: Wow. Jealous much Rose?

And here we go.

Rose: Hardly. Besides, it's my bed she'll be sleeping in tonight

Rose: You're the one who should be jealous

Lindsey: Oh reallyyyy?

Rose: Maybe. If she plays her cards right

Lindsey: Haha does she ever?

Rose: No, she really doesn't

Well at least they aren't seriously arguing. Would prefer if they didn't bond over making fun of me, but I'll take what I can get these days. Not like that.

Sam: Aww Sonny is charming in her own way guys.

Mal: LOL Sam is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?

Mal: You can always snuggle in my bed if you're lonely Son

Sonnett: Wow didn't know my friends are all comedians. Lucky me.

I'm texting Rose separately before I can stop myself.

Sonnett: ?

Rose: ??

Sonnett: Seriously Rose?

Rose: No.. not seriously. Thought it was pretty clear that I was joking

Rose: Just like you were with Lindsey, right?

Sonnett: Not sure what type of game you're trying to play but I'm not interested

The three dots indicating a reply from Rose is in the works wave up and down for a few seconds and then stop. She never replies, and it's a fabulous start to the evening.

**...**

By 9 p.m., I'm more than ready to be arriving back at my room. Perhaps in part so that I can slam some Tylenol PM and pass out before Rose gets back. My room key slips into its slot, the green light flashes as the lock clicks open, and a tired breath escapes me as I open the door.

This whole ordeal has been exhausting: trying to figure out what the hell is going on, how to react, what Rose is thinking, what I'm even thinking, what the right thing to do is, and all the while acting like everything is fine around the rest of the team. I'm not fine, but I'm going to keep faking it until I make it... or something like that.

The lights are off, and it's a welcome sight. One of us must have accidentally left the TV on from earlier, but oh well. It happens. I toss my bag on the counter, grab a change of clothes, and lift my shirt off.

The channel changes on the TV next to me, which doesn't happen on its own, unfortunately.

A quick turn enters Rose into view. Fantastic.

And it's not just any Rose before me. No, this Rose has her hood up, watching TV alone in our hotel room, in the dark. Is this emo Rose? Didn't know there was this type of Rose, and first impressions make me think I might actually prefer angry Rose.

“What are you doing here? Thought you'd be hanging out at Lindsey and Sam's.”

Rose's eyes sweep over my shoulders, chest, and stomach before replying, “Nah, changed my mind. I just wanted to hang here tonight.” She then rushes to revert her attention back to the screen as I hurriedly throw on my shirt.

“Are you okay?” Dammit. I just _had_ to go and ask that, didn't I?

Rose reacts as expected, with a frustrated sigh. She doesn't look back at me, and she doesn't say a word in reply. She could at least just say yes, or no, or shut up, or leave me alone, or go away, or I hate you, or literally anything to acknowledge I spoke to her. But nothing. And it's like a bell dings in my head to signal the start of a boxing match, because I've had enough of this shit.

“Forget I asked.”

My adrenaline is pumping, and the best thing to do here is to bite my tongue and walk away. Thankfully, I start to do just that- until I snap back around to face Rose, “ _Also_ , sorry that I care about you and want to make sure you're alright when you get wrecked on the field and look like you just retore your hamstring!”

Okay seriously, walk away. Go. Now. Yes, good, keep going- nope, shit, I'm facing Rose again, “And I'm _sooo_ sorry I want to check in after we accidentally have sex and you disappear the next morning. Yeah, _sincerest_ apologies it's bothering me that you refuse to talk to me about what the hell is going on with us. How annoying of me! Don't worry though, you win. I'm done trying. Happy?”

Rose finally looks over from the TV. Yet she remains silent, only furrowing her brow and pinching at her bottom lip. She visibly jumps when I yell, “Perfect, more silence!”

My feet are working just fine, now that I've done exactly what I meant not to do, and they carry me off to finish getting ready for bed in the bathroom. Her stupid fucking q-tips are still all over the ground from this morning, and I'm so close to gathering them up, carrying them to her bed, and dumping them all over her. Okay, no, this isn't me, and this definitely isn't who I want to become.

So I get cleaned up, finish changing clothes, and plan my next move. I'm pretty sure my headphones are still in my soccer bag, I'll grab them on my way out, throw them on, and lie down in bed. No more talking, I don't want to say things I don't mean. We're only here a couple more days and then we'll switch roommates for the last leg of camp. I can get through this, I _will_ get through this.

Thankfully, my headphones are exactly where I thought they were, which isn't often the case. Just the act of pulling them out should signal I have no intention of carrying a conversation. The power light flashes blue as I lean back in bed, and I'm so close to having them on when I hear it, “Son..”

Rose's voice sounds similar to when she said my name this morning, only this time it's more harrowing to hear. But I can't trust that tone, I can't trust anything between us right now. All I want is to prevent things from getting any worse than they already are. I just need to go to bed, and ideally fast forward to the end of the week so we can effectively do the space thing and get back to a healthy friendship. Eventually. Hopefully.

“What?”

“Can you- maybe come here?”

“No.” It's not meant to sound as harsh as it does. This is purely a preventative measure to keep us from falling back into the same trap again. My headphones are on in no time, and my thumb scrolls through my phone trying to decide on what to listen to. Country sounds like the move to make, that should help calm me down. Florida Georgia Line, perfect.

My eyes close moments later when I feel my bed dip slightly under Rose's weight. Hi God, it's me, Emily. Please help, because this is torture, and I literally cannot take this anymore.

I remove my headphones to ask, “Rose, what do you want from me?”

“I'm sorry.”

Well that's not what I was expecting to hear. And Rose's red, misty eyes aren't what I'm expecting to see, but they're all I can focus on as she joins me under the covers and wraps her arms around me once more.

“You're not okay, are you?”

Rose's slight shrug against me means no, because it's Rose, and she'll never actually say that she's not okay. Even when she clearly isn't.

“What's going on with you?”

“I pulled my hamstring. I'm out for two weeks at least. What if it gets worse again and I'm not back in time?”

“You'll be back.”

“You don't know that.”

“I do actually, because you're Rose Lavelle, and you're a warrior. Just be smart and listen to the trainers. They'll have you back in time.”

“But what if I'm not?”

“Then we'll get through it together, same as always.”

“Will we though?”

“Of course.” And I mean it. I don't care how mad I am at Rose, I'll always be there for her when she really needs it.

She nods silently, her face buried in my shoulder again. I'm powerless to whatever this is. I can't not care for Rose, and I can't prevent my arms from pulling her closer when a couple tears reach my skin through the thin fabric of my t-shirt.

“I hate how we've been lately.” Maybe she's been as torn up about this as I have.

“I hate it too.”

“I've been thinking about you all day.”

“Really?”

Rose nods and then nestles into my neck.

“Same here.”

Rose sniffles and then suggests, “Because you think I'm sexy?” She laughs as she continues, “I mean, look at me. How could you not?” She rubs at her eyes afterwards.

And while it's a classic Rose move to deflect emotions with sarcasm, I can't help but wonder if I've been sending the wrong message all this time. “Because I think you're beautiful, and I've been worried about you.”

Two fingers tuck stray strands of hair behind Rose's impossibly cute ear and then trace down along her cheek, the need to assuage Rose's self doubt finally starting to slowly override my fear of showing her how I truly feel.

She looks up at me in reply, and I'm not ready for it. I never am. No matter if she's happy or sad or angry or turned on, her gaze undoes me every time, over and over. Because I know that if I look at her long enough, my eyes will eventually give me away.

So I make quick work of brushing my lips against her cheeks, where her tears have since dissipated, and then to the top of her forehead. But I'm out of distractions. She's still looking up at me, and I'm soon drawn into the way her eyes sparkle back like sapphires dazzling in the sunlight.

It was only ever going to be a matter of time before our lips met. Hers come to me, but mine would have simply gone to her if they hadn't. This kiss is different. This kiss is silk sheets against your skin after a long day, the first days of warmth thawing your soul after winter, and the scent of freshly dried laundry filling your nose.

It's everything I want, terrifyingly so, because it breaks every rule I've made for navigating this situation. The flight response kicks in, fueling desperation to end the kiss immediately. But the hint of salt hitting my taste buds has me swallowing my fear and staying put. Because I don't want Rose to cry, ever. And if she's going to cry, I never want to be part of the reason for it. But since both of those things have happened, the least I can do is make it better. If she wants me to kiss it away, then I will.

It's as though this morning is already an entire world apart from where we are now. Because everything that was rushed before is slow: the way her tongue rolls into mine, the way our lips sync up again and again to open and close each kiss, neither showing the slightest sign of wanting to stop, the way her hand runs through my hair, the way we finally pull apart to do the whole breathing thing, the time that passes as our faces have space between them but our eyes remain locked onto one another, Rose's movement as she reaches for and lifts her sweatshirt above her head, and the way my eyes scan up and down her body in full awareness they'll never see enough of her no matter how long they take her in for.

She's got nothing on underneath it. She's beautiful. Wait- she's topless, “Rose, don't.” I'm quick to hold her hoodie up to cover her bare skin. I'm not letting this get out of hand, I should have never let things go this far in the first place.

“Em, it's okay. I want you.”

Hearing her say those words makes me swallow hard, “No, I'm not going to be rough with you. Especially not with you upset like this.”

“Then do something else, just please touch me.”

Would doing so be alleviating or exacerbating the problem? The need in Rose's voice flips my mind from being dead set on not getting anywhere near touching her tonight to thinking maybe I should if it will make her feel better.

Responsible Sonnett makes a brief appearance, “Why don't we put a movie on and I'll lie here with you instead?”

Rose's face falls, “You really don't want to. You're not into it anymore, are you?”

“No, that's not- Rose you were just in tears. The last thing I want is to make that happen again. I want us to be good. More than I want anything else.”

“It won't happen again. We're good.” She sounds certain.

Agonizing silence settles in... until eventually weakness wins out.

“You're sure?”

“Yeah.”

“And you'll let me know if you want me to stop?”

“I won't want you to stop.”

My pulse skyrockets, how could it not with her saying things like that to me?

Rose's hand lands over mine, and my grasp on her hoodie starts to loosen as she pulls at it. Soon it's tossed away, falling to the wayside along with the rest of my resolve to resist Rose.

My eyes roam over her again, and my hands are aching to reach out and take hold of her. Rose's fingers lift the underside of my jaw, tilting my head up until our lips are meeting again.

Have you ever been so lost in a moment that you have to question if you were ever actually found? That's where this is headed. Off the grid, MIA, don't know my own name, not sure which way is up, and too far gone to ask for directions at a gas station.

My hands get what they want as they run along Rose's sides, I'm not trying to hold them back anymore. Rose curves into my touch, pressing her chest against me, hardened nipples catching against my own through my shirt.

A moan slips out in reply. I can't contain it any longer, my desire having grown too great.

It seems she doesn't want to wait anymore either as her hand finds mine and leads it down her body.

They're about to disappear beneath the waistband of Rose's pajama shorts before I realize it's too fast and pull up, “Easy, I've got you. Just relax.”

Rose breathes an, “Okay,” in confirmation.

I lean forward and run my hand along the mattress until I find the bottom of the headboard, “Hold here.”

It sounds too much like a demand, and I don't want this to be like last time, so I'm quick to soften it into a suggestion, “Uh you know, only if you want to. You don't- you don't have to.”

Rose smiles at my bumbling before reaching her hands above her head until they're gripping the headboard as demonstrated.

She needs to know this time is different. I want her to feel safe and secure. I don't want her to run away again, I honestly don't think I could bear it. I set a pillow by her arm so that it's there if she needs it. Her mouth twitches when she realizes what I've done, perhaps as she remembers how she used it last time.

A nervous breath leaves me as I make another request, “Close your eyes- please.”

Rose nods before doing so and leaning her head back. That's it, let me take care of you.

My lips press against Rose's as my fingers trace the side of her face before slowly working my way downward. I lightly kiss along her neck until I reach her collarbone. My fingers run along it as my mouth moves to her nipple. It's clear from first contact that she can't take any biting right now. She sounds frantic even from the light pull between my lips.

Today isn't about teasing. This is about giving Rose what she needs. If anything, I want to help center her, not overwhelm her. I run my hands along Rose's ribs and slowly peck my way down her stomach. Lower and lower, until I'm kissing just above her shorts.

I pause and glance back up. Rose still has her eyes closed. My finger runs just under her waistband, “You okay?”

“Yeah, take them off.”

Another nervous breath, I never thought I'd be hearing any of these things come out of Rose's mouth. My hands pull on either side and Rose lifts slightly at the waist to assist in removing the last remaining article of clothing on her body.

My hands trail from Rose's bent knees down along the outsides of her thighs. She slowly parts her legs for me, and it's a struggle to not become frozen in utter disbelief that this is happening. I plant kisses along her inner thigh, giving Rose one last chance to change her mind.

She doesn't, and I'm careful not to let myself start running wild when I taste her for the first time, when I hear the shriek of a breath she lets out at the touch. Even the stroke of my tongue seems to be too much for her, so I place a soft kiss on her clit before gently pulling it into my mouth and sucking lightly.

It takes a fair amount of effort to not laugh when Rose says, “Keep doing whatever the hell you're doing right now,” but I succeed. Barely.

She never asks for it faster, so I hold steady, allowing the intensity to build gradually. And perhaps the only consistency between now and the first time we were together is Rose saying “Please don't stop,” as she gets close, and myself responding with “I won't,” to reassure her, though both our voices sound completely different this time around.

She comes differently too. It's not explosive, there's a slow transition into it. A progression. Like a tide working its way further and further onto shore until eventually it gradually recedes again. She doesn't use the pillow, she doesn't scream. She keeps whispering, “Oh my God,” sounding a little more labored each time, until finally dropping off into a single strained syllable in the middle of saying it for the fourth time. And now there's just breathing- both of ours.

She's extraordinary. I'm in awe of her. I want everything from her. Everything she has to give.

She finally opens her eyes and looks down at me. Then she's reaching her hand out for me, and it's a relief that she still wants me near her. I start to move back up her body and, once she's able, she grips my arm and pulls me up until we're kissing. I keep my mouth closed until Rose's tongue runs along my lips, and then I'm quick to take it into my mouth. She'll be able to taste herself on me, the knowledge of which strains my breathing even further.

Now I'm the one who's desperate to be touched...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?... Do we think Sonny will let Rose return the favor this time?... Do we want her to?... Do we think they'll be good after tonight?


	13. Receiving Favors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all know Son is capable of giving, sometimes to a fault, but is she able to receive?

_She finally opens her eyes and looks down at me. Then she's reaching her hand out for me, and it's a relief that she still wants me near her. I start to move back up her body and, once she's able, she grips my arm and pulls me up until we're kissing. I keep my mouth closed until Rose's tongue runs along my lips, and then I'm quick to take it into my mouth. She'll be able to taste herself on me, the knowledge of which strains my breathing even further._

_Now I'm the one who's desperate to be touched..._

But tonight isn't about me. It's about Rose. I can wait, and I'd rather wait than rush her to do anything she's not ready to. Assuming that's something she would ever truly want to do.

My body settles into bed next to Rose, and I'm unsure of what my next move should be. Do I hold her? She looks over at me, still catching her breath. A smile overtakes me- betrays me more like. But she sends one back my way, and it puts me at ease.

“Hi.” Spoken like we haven't seen each other in ages. Fitting because I've never seen her like this before- in a new light, through a new lens.

“Hi.” Rose almost sounds shy, hinting that perhaps she feels the shift as well.

Silence. Until we take turns trading staccato chuckles to fill it. We're awkward, nervous. It's us, so it's not surprising.

Rose leans over and kisses me again. Softly. Too softly. It's tender. God, I hate that word. But it is. It's tender, and it ignites something in me- the type of flame that could easily burn an entire house down if you aren't careful. The kind you can't extinguish on your own. The kind that either makes you feel at home or holds you hostage. For now, I feel at home.

Her bare back feels smooth as my hand travels up and down it. She leans further into me, rolling me flat against the mattress, and starts to climb on top of me. My hand holds her wrist, “Rose, no. You don't have to do anything.”

“I want to make you feel good.” Rose: point blank in her eyes, words, and intentions.

And fuck if it's not the sexiest thing I've ever heard, but she doesn't know what she's saying. Even if she does, there's a big difference between saying it and actually doing it. I don't want to be the reason she prematurely jumps the gap between the two and winds up traumatized. Possibly not for the first time either considering her disappearing act after last time.

“Seriously, it's not a big deal if you're uncomfortable, or tired even. Like at all. We can just watch TV and go to bed.”

“Please let me. Or do you not want me to?” Her eyes are sincere, her voice is vulnerable, and her brow is furrowed. This isn't a challenge, this isn't a tease. She really doesn't know how badly I want her. How could she not know?

“No, I- I do. I want you to.” Can't believe I actually just admitted that. Out loud. _To Rose._

“You do?”

“Yeah,” my voice sounds lower than normal, perhaps caught beneath the lump in my throat. A hard swallow seems to help.

“Okay,” the corners of Rose's mouth jump up before straightening again as she continues, “What do you.. like?”

There's no way in hell I can answer that question honestly. Not yet.

Because the honest answer is: _I want your mouth on me, I want to watch you eat me out, I want you to all but choke on how wet I am._ Oh God, do I have a choking fetish? No, it's not about the choking, I swear. I just want her to want me. I want her tongue straining to get as far inside of me as it can in exploration. I want her to lick up every drop of me that she can manage. Because that's how badly I want her.

Okay, yeah, Rose going down on me is out of the question.

“Son?” Crap, I never answered her.

“Oh, uh, whatever is fine. I'm not picky.”

“Will you help me if I- if it's?”

“Sure.”

Maybe if I stay completely still she won't actually do anything and we'll go to sleep instead...

No such luck, her hands are running up my stomach, pulling my shirt up as they go. My body is already trembling at her touch. We're off to a good start. Sheer terror reigns my headspace, yet my body throbs in blissful anticipation as Rose removes my clothes. She's watching me, like actually seeing me. She's in this, present, and I need that to be the case, because this isn't just Rose returning a favor.. at least not to me.

She soon has two fingers held just outside of me and looks up as though asking for permission to enter. Or maybe to seek direction on what to do next. I can't honestly tell, but she's adorable when she isn't sure of what to do. And on second thought, this isn't a safe bet either. It's not that I don't want her to fuck me inside. It's just that sometimes if I get really into it, there's a chance things could get, uh, messy. And if Rose is the one doing it to me, there's a chance I could get that into it. And I am NOT doing that. Talk about traumatizing, I'm not sure who it would mortify more, me or her.

Rose looks a little panicked when I resurface, “Oh sorry, actually, maybe start here instead.” I lightly lead her hand upwards and slowly start to move it in a circle. Is it directly hitting my clit? No. Is that an intentional move? You bet your ass it is.

I'm biting down on my cheek as hard as I can to not lose control, to not react. It's enough just knowing Rose wants to touch me. It's enough having her try to touch me. It wouldn't take much at all for me to come if she actually were to hit right on target. And I can't let myself come from this... Absolutely not... But then what- fake an orgasm?... I can't do that either, I won't do that to Rose... So what?... Lie here forever?... Pretend to fall asleep?... There's no easy way out of this, is there?

After a couple minutes of what I realize has likely been horrible silence for Rose while my lesbian life crisis plays out in my head, I notice she's stopped touching me. Oh thank God, maybe she thinks I came so we can be done for today. Why is she putting her hair up? Could be bothering her... or maybe she's putting it up before going to sleep. Is that a thing?

Uh oh, she's smirking at me. She's definitely up to something. Now she's leaning back in, round two with fingers? Wait, her face is getting really close to- CODE FUCKING RED, Rose is trying to go down on me!

Abort! Abort! Abort! My body shoots upright, and my arms extend to hold her back, “Rose no, you don't have-”

Rose's hand lands with a firm hold to my shoulder, stopping me mid spring and knocking the rest of my words right back down my throat.

“I believe it's your turn to relax.”

Sweet Jesus, can Rose be a top? Do I _want_ her to top me? Her saying that just did _things_ to me, so all signs point to yes. But let's shove that down and deal with it another day, shall we?

I'm smiling, because she's hot. Really hot. Despite doing something completely new, she's still the one taking the lead to calm me down.

And I want her to do what she's trying to do.

And I'm only human here, I can only hold out for so long.

And if she wants to do this to me, why am I still fighting it?

No, don't answer that... another topic to save for a later date.

Rose leans forward and kisses me. She runs her tongue along my lips but doesn't enter my mouth. So now maybe she is teasing a little bit, and I don't mind. She uses her thumb to turn my face away. At first I'm not sure why, but it soon becomes clear that she wants better access to my neck, which she kisses lightly. Then the tip of her tongue is tracing up along it until finally flicking across my ear.

My shrill exhale effectively conveys the impact she's having on me. And that's _before_ she whispers, “I really want to taste you right now. So if that's what you want too, please lie down and relax for me.”

This is all so unfair. There's no refusing her after that. There's no cheeky reply on deck to downplay the effect it has on me either. All I can muster up is a silent nod in comprehension before leaning back in compliance.

“Closing your eyes might help, or so I've heard.”

She's funny. And she's sexy. And she's beautiful. And she's smart. And she's so fucking talented- in almost too many ways. She's too much. This is too much, I'm in way over my head, but I'm unable to stop it. Not anymore.

It's not enough, closing my eyes. Not even close. Thank God the pillow I set up here for Rose is still within reach, because it's being smashed into my face from the second Rose's tongue starts to slide across me for the first time, the end point of which lands right on my clit. It's as if lighting strikes me, sending a shock wave of pleasure through my entire body like an electric current. At least she can't see my face when it happens, and at least I can't look down at her as she starts to work on me. That's too dangerous.

My moaning is frequent. My moaning is loud. My moaning is uncontrollable. And I'm too caught up to worry about it anymore. I let all of it out into the pillow- everything I've been keeping pent up, hidden, contained.

It's unclear whether she's a natural or if she has me so turned on I'm swollen enough that she can't easily miss at this point. Both are likely the case. She's applying longer strokes across me, which feel great, but eventually I need her to zero in on where I want her most.

By the time I realize my hand is on the move, it's too late. It's already landing on Rose's head and pressing her mouth right into my clit.

Shit, my hand immediately releases her as my head pops up from behind the pillow.

“Rose, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- You can stop.” My eyes find hers immediately, so she knows I really didn't intend to grab her like that.

“Why would I stop, did you-?” She sounds okay, wait did she just ask if I-?

“Uh, um, no. Not yet.”

My eyes scan down Rose's face. Christ, I'm covering her mouth and chin- it's a damn mess. A sexy one.

“Emily?”

That's not helping either.

“Yeah?”

“Did you want me to keep going?”

“I- you- yes please.”

“Good,” Rose starts to lower her head, but then pauses and smirks back up at me, “You can put your hand back by the way, I don't mind the guidance.”

Fuck. Me. Sideways.

I blink at her as my hand runs through her hair gently, carefully, so she knows my respect for her is greater than my want for her in this moment. It feels important to make sure she knows that. She shoots me a small smile before starting back to work, and I manage to keep my fist from closing too tightly around her hair when I feel her mouth on me again. My palm opens and rests on top of her head. Keep it together, Sonnett.

She just needs to be a little to the left and then she'll be- Oh Lord, that's it. Right there, “Yeah. Just like that, you're doing so good, Rose.”

It's not even a minute later before I realize just _how_ good Rose is doing. I'm getting close. Very close. Am I doing this, am I really going to come right against Rose's face? This at least warrants a warning, right? Like, does she understand what's about to happen?

My voice is creeping up by the octave, “Okay, that's good-”

My breathing is getting choppy, “Rose you can stop-”

My body is starting to tingle, “Otherwise I'm-”

Oh no, she's not stopping, “I'm going to-”

She's going steadily faster and harder, “I'm about to-”

My hand pulls Rose's face into me again, just like I knew it would if I let myself get here, and she leans fully into it, giving me the pressure I need to completely unravel.

And while the world goes dark as I dive back beneath the pillow and bite down on it, I suddenly see white...

Which I think means I'm having: A. My first out of body experience, B. The most crippling panic attack known to man, or C. The most intense orgasm of my life.

Realistically, the correct answer is probably D. All of the above.

Because when is it not?

When I finally come to, no pun intended, I pull the pillow off of me because I'm about to pass out from the lack of oxygen. Rose is slowly rising from between my legs as I gasp for air, one of her eyebrows marginally lifted and her mouth slightly ajar.

I apologize between deep breaths, “Sorry- couldn't- stop it.”

Rose shakes her head in what almost appears to be a cross between snapping back to reality and attempting to reassure me, “No, don't apologize. That was- wow.”

Wow? What does wow mean? Is that bad?

My hips most definitely went as wild as I would have guessed. It's like a game of I Spy, trying to spot where I'm _not_ currently covering Rose's face. Her cheeks glisten, even the tip of her nose. She wipes her face on her arm, which gets maybe half of it off of her, and then she's grinning up at me. She doesn't seem to mind the mess.

Seriously though, how is she so sexy and cute at the same time?

Rose slowly crawls back up my body, and I'm at a loss for words from how hot she looks doing it.

It seems I'm finally back in control of my limbs, like a robot rebooting from a factory reset, so I grab my shirt off the nightstand. “Come here,” I can't help but smirk as I wipe her face off before reverting back to panicking, “Sorry about the, uh-” I have to gesture at my own face to finish my sentence.

“Emily. Stop apologizing. I liked it.”

“You did?”

  
“Yeah.”

Blinking back blankly is all I can manage. Rose drops into the space beside me, and my arm is around her before I can prevent it from happening.

“Was it good?” She's looking up at me earnestly.

Was it good? Tremors are still pulsing through me like an earthquake just ravaged my body in the best way possible.

I want to sarcastically say, _It was okay_ , because I'm scared for her to realize just how much I enjoyed what she did to me, but the vulnerability in how she asks the question is impossible to miss. I also want to let her know, _It's the hardest I've ever come_ , because it's true, and she's amazing, but it would expose me too much to say it. So I pull her into me, kiss the top of her head, and finally reply, “Yeah, it was really good.”

“Okay, good.” Rose smiles and asks, “Here, do you want a pillow?” as she extends one out for me to rest my head on. Yep, it's _that_ pillow. She receives the death glare she deserves and innocently asks, “What?” as she stifles a laugh. She then quickly leans over and kisses me before I can lay into her, lifting my head to meet her halfway and slipping the pillow underneath me in the process. So she _was_ trying to be sweet. Well, at least partially.

Rose pulls back and looks down at me. The corner of her mouth curls up for a second before she lies back down and wraps my arm around her again. The quiet doesn't feel strained anymore. It's cozy, actually. Maybe it's because I burned off all my cortisol coming that hard. Regardless, it's a comfortable quiet, and it definitely feels like home.

“Em.”

“Hmm?”

“You're, like, really beautiful. I hope you know that.”

There aren't enough words in the dictionary to formulate a suitable reply to that, so my fingers start to trace up and down the outside of Rose's arm instead. She seems to recognize that's all I can come up with, and plants a quick peck to my knuckles when my fingertips next reach her shoulder.

What is happening right now?

That flame is still there, flaring up as I pull Rose tighter into my side. Her hand rests on my chest and her leg drapes over my own as though that's how humans do hugs now.

Something about feeling this close to Rose has me suddenly opening up, “Please don't shut me out like that again. I can't take it.”

“I won't, I promise.”

My head nods against her forehead so she'll know I believe her, and I finally feel safe after hearing it...

Safe enough to drift off to sleep with Rose in my arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So- here's the scoop- this ish is starting to get long... I do have ideas for a couple additional chapters I can work in if y'all are finding the story interesting and want more content. Otherwise, I can stick to the original plan and keep # of chapters down. Lmk your vibes if you have a preference.
> 
> As always, thank you for your kudos/comments/support. I could pretend like I'm secure with my writing, but I absolutely am not (and may or may not have a mini panic attack every time I post- whoops!) so ty ty ty for being amazing, it's much appreciated <3


	14. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New day, who dis?

It's early, too early to be waking up with a smile on my face. Yet here we are. Leave it to Rose Lavelle to turn me into a morning person. What's more annoying is the fact that she doesn't even like the morning time, so it's not like she'd intentionally try to bring me over to the sunny side. No, I bet you fifty bucks she's still sound asleep right next to- oh no, where is she?

I scramble to scan the room. She's not in my bed. She's not in the other bed. She's nowhere in sight. Not again, my fist pounds at the mattress, “Fuck!”

“What's wrong?!” Rose looks a mixture of tired, worried, adorable, and startled as she hurries into view to check on me.

She's still here.. and the way her baggy t-shirt hits right at her upper thigh makes me stutter, “Wh- where'd you come from?”

Rose gives me a quizzical look as she raises her hand to show me the toothbrush she's holding, “The bathroom.. I was brushing my teeth.”

“Oh.” Whoops, might have jumped the gun there.

“Are you good then or?”

“Yeah, all good.”

She wipes away the water that looks about ready to drip from her chin and smirks, probably having caught on to what caused my freak out, “So I can come back to bed? Like you don't need medical attention or anything?”

“Ha-ha, get over here.” She sets her toothbrush on the nightstand, and I'm lightly pulling her into bed before she can lie down on her own.

“So demanding for this time of day.”

I ignore her comment and kiss her, primarily fueled by relief she's still here, “Morning. And are _you_..”

“Yes, Emily, I'm good.” She sighs, but the smile breaking through negates it.. nice try though.

“Well that's good to know, but I was actually going to ask if you're hungry.” Liar.

Rose sends me an amused look and says, “Sure you were,” before giving me a quick peck on the lips. I swear this girl is so perceptive she could read Braille through a stack of blankets. It's the worst.

Soon she's cuddled into me with my arm around her neck. She starts playing with my hand, pressing our fingertips together repeatedly, measuring our finger length against each other's, and finally falling into mindlessly rotating the spinner ring on my thumb. I'm so comfortable, so content, I could almost close my eyes and fall back asleep.

Until..

“Em, can I...” Rose stops to puff out a frustrated breath, seeming to battle internally. Eventually, she carries on, “Can I ask you something?”

Oh boy, not this question again.

“Sure.”

“Have you.. done this before?”

“Sex?” Ouch, maybe she wasn't feeling last night as much as I thought she was.

Rose's hand plummets from where it was laced with mine and hits the covers with a thud. “With a teammate, Son. Have you had sex with a teammate?”

“Right, gotcha. Why do you ask?”

“Uh dunno, I thought- maybe you and..” Rose trails off without finishing her sentence.

“Me and.. who?”

“Lindsey? But you don't have to-”

“What?! You thought Lindsey and I-” Oh shit, Rose was jealous. “Is that why you were acting so-” Nope, do _not_ finish that sentence.

Rose is nervously biting at her thumb nail now, so I pull her hand out of her mouth and back into my own, “Rose, no. It's Lindsey, we're just best buds. That's all we'll ever be.”

“Okay,” another pause as she processes, “What does that make me then?”

Remind me to instate a 'one serious question per day' limit.. or at least one per morning. She doesn't sound jealous when she asks it though. She sounds hesitant, like maybe behind the grin giving off the impression she's just playing around to see if she can make me say we're better buddies than Lindsey and I are, she's actually hanging on every word and dying to know what I'm thinking.

But that's a possibility I'm not willing to wager on, there's too much at stake. And so, just like any real estate agent knows the key to pitching a property is location, location, location, any seasoned lesbian knows a question like this calls for deflection, deflection, deflection, “That's easy- you're Rose, the bane of my existence.”

Rose lets out a single exhale of laughter and then bites at the corner of her lower lip as she stares down at the sheets. She needs more, she needs.. reassurance? My throat goes completely dry, “But you're also kinda the reason I'm not gonna be able to stop smiling all day.. So I guess it evens out.”

Rose smirks, “I'll take that for now.”

For now??

Time to pivot, “How long have you been wondering about me and Lindsey?”

“Just a bit.” That means awhile.

“Why didn't you ask me earlier?”

“I didn't want to be annoying.” There's the 'guilty dog that ate your dinner' face again.

“Well, you succeeded.”

She tilts her head to the side and quirks an eyebrow- at least she recognizes she was being a little shit.

“No I mean it, you weren't annoying, you were maddening. Next time just talk to me sooner. Deal?” My hand extends like we're closing on a business proposal.

“Deal.” She takes my hand, and we shake on it. Interesting, didn't think she'd actually humor me on that one.

“What about you though?”

“What about me?”

“That was way too good to be your first time going down on a girl. How many teammates have _you_ been hooking up with?” A smile starts to creep across my face.

Rose goes a little red at the compliment then quickly formulates a reply, “Yeah everyone actually, you were the last notch I needed for the national team so- thanks for that.”

Well played, Rose. “Knew it.”

She laughs, and it's the absolute best thing to hear. Then she lightly backhands my shoulder, which I use as an opportunity to grab her hand and pull her in for a kiss. What? Kelley's not the _only_ one with smooth moves.

I thought it would be a peck. I half expected Rose to push me off and give me sass. Instead, shivers spread down my body when she slowly runs her hand up and around my neck, ending in a light hold on the back of my head. It isn't a peck, she holds me close and takes more, and I'm all too happy to give it.

We pull back slightly, faces remaining close, eyes finding each other's. My breathing is far more labored than it should be, and Rose's eyes are far too soft, doe-like even. And we're smiling- real smiles, straight from the heart smiles, _scary_ smiles.

“So we should probably start getting ready.” There's no need to rush out of bed other than me being a total scaredy cat, which Rose likely registers as she squints over at the clock.

She doesn't call me on it though, surprisingly, “Alright, wanna grab coffee downstairs?”

One last kiss to Rose's cheek in bed brings one last smile to her face, “Yeah, let's go.”

We're about to head out fifteen minutes later, my fingers wrapped around the door handle, when Rose says it, “Em, wait.”

I immediately glance down, assuming my shorts are on inside out, or backwards, or both, but nothing seems off, “Yeah?”

  
“I'm glad we talked.” Rose doesn't say things like this. Ever. And it petrifies me while my heart simultaneously melts.

Eventually, a response, “Me too.”

Awkward smiles, uncertain smiles. Should I kiss her? We aren't in bed anymore, and we aren't about to hook up. We don't kiss like this- we haven't before, at least.

It's just, I really want to kiss her.. and can't stop myself from slowly leaning in- with a back-up plan to pretend I'm removing a (nonexistent) fuzzy from her shirt at the ready if she doesn't reciprocate. But, to my surprise, she does, she slowly moves forward to meet me halfway. It isn't long, there isn't tongue, and it isn't laced with sexual desire, yet its impact exceeds all kisses prior.

Because this kiss means something, it has to. What that something is, I'm not sure, but something nonetheless. The way Rose's short, sudden exhale hits my lips while her pupils dilate after pulling apart says everything that needs to be said, at least for now. Words certainly aren't working for me at this point, so I scrunch my nose up at Rose, which is meant to inform her that she's being too cute and needs to stop immediately. Except she does it right back, which turns out to be the opposite of being less cute when it's her doing it. So I cut my losses, grab her hand, and lead her out into the hallway.

I love this: the way her hand feels in mine, warm and welcoming- like I have everything I could ever want right at my fingertips, the way our forearms brush against each other as we walk down the hall- somehow sending both sparks and shivers through me at the same time, the way she looks right now- hair up in a messy ponytail, dressed in her practice uniform even though she won't be hitting the field today, and glasses on because she doesn't feel like dealing with her contacts yet... See? Not a morning person.

But what I love most about the present is the way Rose seems to be smiling to herself. She's looking down at the floor, likely trying to both hide and stop it, knowing her, but that smile widens when she finally looks over at me and finds me smiling back at her.

We only drop each other's hand when the elevator opens on the third floor, and we're quick to take a sizable step away from each other as in walks Carli, “Hey guys, how'd you sleep?”

“Quite adequately!” Yikes, maybe that was too chipper. Carli slowly turns her head back to look at me, maybe even to assess my well-being as she sometimes does to us youngins.

She nods her head side to side just the slightest bit, “Okay then.. That's good- Rose?”

Rose's monotone voice does anything and everything to compensate for my overenthusiastic reply, “Not bad, you?”

“Fine, thanks.”

Rose looks at me and her eyes say, 'See this how normal people respond to that question you weirdo.' She rolls her eyes and looks away.. but definitely glances back to send a small smile as the elevator doors open to the lobby..

Yup, nailed it.

…

It's not funny, the joke I'm about to make at breakfast. It's morning brain mumbo jumbo at best. I don't even know where this stuff comes from to be honest. I'm just in a really good mood and want an excuse to be smiling, because I can't seem to wipe the one I'm wearing off my face, “Okay, important question for you guys: What kind of bagel can fly?”

“A boo-berry bagel?” Sam offers after several seconds of silence, likely having half-listened to the question as we wait for more coffee.

“No, that's the answer to yesterday's 'What kind of bagel is most likely to scare you?' but thank you for actually replying, unlike other people I know. The correct answer is.. a plane bagel.”

Sam offers a polite chuckle, Lindsey shakes her head without looking up, and Mal lifts her eyebrows at me as she chews on a bite of toast. But Rose, who didn't seem like she was even paying attention in the first place, starts cracking up under her breath. And it's all wrong, because Rose hates my dad jokes, at least she always acts like she does. Her reactions are usually the most severe, ranging from her 'get your shit together' stare down to her 'I'm concerned for you' face-palm. She likes to let me know when I've really gone too far by excusing herself to the bathroom in a way that lets me know it's so I have time to let what I just said marinate.

It's strange for her to laugh, very strange indeed, and it only makes my smile brighten. Rose, however, stiffens when she realizes people are giving her confused looks and quickly supplies an explanation, “Sorry, I was just thinking of my dream about Wilma last night. She was skateboarding in a suit and top hat.”

Apparently everyone finds _that_ to be a good conversation starter. Also, sounds like Wilma might be a little gay on the down low.

Moments later, when the group's attention is off her, Rose's fingers find my thigh, brushing lightly enough to make me jump at her touch. She squeezes my leg as if to still me, and then the back of her hand lightly hits my thigh. A quick glance down informs she's got her palm open expectantly- she wants to hold my hand. My stomach flips for at least the hundredth time this morning, and my hand is all too happy to ditch the table and entwine my fingers with Rose's... after stopping off to scratch my cheek of course. Can't be too obvious about it.

Because we shouldn't be doing this, this is actually probably really stupid. We don't even know what the heck we are yet, so we shouldn't be chancing someone on the team catching us and pressing for answers. I don't want this to implode before it gets a fair chance, but I can't drop her hand. I can't push these feelings away anymore- I'm so sick of doing that.

It's a mystery how we even got to this point, how she ever ended up so close in the first place. Because I never in a million years thought she would, but somehow she did. And now that she has, I want her to stay: right here, her hand in mine, her eyes on me, her lips pressed together tightly- likely trying to keep them in a tidy straight line but turning up at the corners nonetheless.

And that's exactly what I want. I want to be the reason Rose can't keep that cool, calm demeanor, that she can't hide behind the poker face, the stoic aura. Sure, it's partially because it will annoy her to no end not having complete control, but it's mostly because it means she's too happy to not show at least a shred of it..

Ah, _that's_ what this is, I want to make her happy.

Kelley's eyebrows are skimming her hairline when I finally am able to look away from Rose. I instantly frown at her, and mouth 'What?' Kelley's chin dips as she tips her head to the side and gives me an 'I'm not an idiot' look. Something tells me we'll be discussing this later.

“Problem, Kelley?” Oh shit, Rose totally just called her out. God she's ballsy, and I love it.. when it's not directed at me.

“What? Uhh. No, just enjoying a pleasant meal with my favorites.”

“Okay good, just checking. Thought you looked confused.”

We finish the meal without further incident, although Kelley does send one last intrigued look once Rose turns away to talk with Mal.

Rose decides the most opportune time to use the restroom is right as the bus arrives, and drags me along with her so I can stand outside and hold her bag for her. It lands us alone in the back row on the drive to the practice fields. As one would expect, it's not long before she starts acting up. Her foot hits my shin out of nowhere. I frown, she smirks, and a second later, I'm kicking her right back.

“Stop..” She says it as a scold, implying I'm the one causing trouble when she started it, and even goes as far as pairing it with a swat to my arm.

She grins victoriously in reply to my scowl, which she probably plotted for from the beginning.

“You stop.” Rose only laughs as my light push has her bumping into the side of the bus.

Her laugh stills into a genuine grin, and without warning, Rose leans against me to rest her head on my shoulder. How she transitions from tyrant to innocent so seamlessly is beyond me, but it lets her get away with murder.

And while this isn't anything we haven't done before, it feels completely new. My hand instinctively makes its way to her leg, and instead of panicking that this shouldn't be happening, I find myself simply enjoying the moment- eventually leaning in and resting my chin against the top of Rose's head.

Maybe this will all work itself out after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So maybe I'm a bit of a romantic deep down.. plz don't tell anyone.
> 
> Also, the plane bagel joke was taken from the Sam Mewis USWNT Instagram Takeover- which you should go watch if you haven't seen.
> 
> Finally, it might be a bit before this is updated next bc I'm moving soon & have nothing ready. Feel free to harass me for an update in the comments as you see fit.. ngl it will likely make me get back to this quicker. As always thanks for reading and being awesome! :)


	15. Every Rose Has Its Torn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know what they say about good things..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Happy New Year, hope you've been well and are staying safe/healthy in the dumpster fire that is the world right now. 
> 
> Also.. sorry about this chapter in advance..

It's been 2 days, 12 hours, and 37 minutes, or something like that, since the softest, scariest sex of my life. Although, for some reason, it almost feels like months have passed. Perhaps it's because of how far we've come in so little time. Or perhaps it's because that time has been filled with holding hands beneath a blanket during team chill sessions, stealing kisses when nobody's around, and Rose sneakily pinching my butt at practice only to look deeply concerned when I yelp, as though she has no idea what could possibly be the matter. Really though, not to sound cheesy- but it's kinda been filled with bliss.

Because I lo- _like_ Rose.

Not even Rose, actually, just whatever this is with her. I _like_ it. Maybe I like her too, still undecided. Like- Like- Like- Like. Yeah. All good, I just like her- maybe. Kelley's right, I need to figure out what the hell we're doing here. Wouldn't hurt to know what Rose is thinking. She has to know I might like her- right? It's obvious. It's too obvious. That's why I have to pretend I don't all the time. Which she definitely recognizes. Right?

“What are you up to... and why does your face look all contorted?” Rose asks suspiciously as she walks into our room.

“My face isn't-”

“Oh no, you're constipated again. _Aren't_ you?” she suggests with a smirk.

“What?! No, I was just thinking.”

“What of?” she challenges- same as always.

You. “Uh, well now I forgot because you startled me.”

She only shakes her head at me, “You concern me sometimes.”

“I concern myself most times,” I admit with a shrug.

“Yikes,” Rose responds with arched eyebrows before continuing, “Well I'm gonna grab dinner, wanna come with? Or are you too backed up?”

“Shut it, Rose. Let's go.”

We're in the hallway before my defensive addition bursts out, “You know I take probiotics now.”

Rose chuckles, as though she knew I wouldn't be able to let it go, “Yeah, because you get constipated.”

My voice drops to a whisper while we wait for an elderly couple to exit the elevator on our way down to the lobby, “Fuck off.”

Rose lets the elevator doors click closed behind us before shifting gears, “Hm, I'd rather fuck _you_ than fuck off.” My heart races in anticipation as she draws near, until Rose halts in her tracks dramatically, “Actually- I guess maybe not if you're having... _issues_.”

My eyes roll in irritation despite knowing this is exactly the reaction Rose is aiming for, “The only issue I have is you.”

Rose snorts with laughter, “Sure killer, whatever you say.”

The elevator bell dings to signal our arrival at the first floor, and before I can get a shot at what would have been an extremely composed rebuttal, she grabs my wrist and tugs, “C'mon, I'm starving.”

Yup, see what I mean? Pure bliss with this one.

**...**

The night lands the team at a trashy club, because “It's our last night in Tampa, and we gotta make it count,” and there's simply no compromising with Mal and Lindsey this time around- dancing is on tonight's agenda, end of story. And that's before Ash and Pinoe jump in to tip the scales even further in their favor. I mean, if they _really_ want me to wipe the (dance) floor with them, I guess we can make that happen.

And, do Rose and I dance together all the time? Duh. Is it usually as sexual as it is at present? Nope. Do I mind it? Not in the slightest. I'd be worried about the team noticing, but everyone's feeling pretty good on the Jack and Cokes we've been slamming- and besides, it's common knowledge that Rose and I get super into our dancing- and it's not _our_ fault they keep playing grind-worthy songs- and also, Crystal's full on backing it up into Ertzy and _that_ doesn't mean anything, so obviously it doesn't mean anything that we're doing it either.

It's one thing while Rose is facing away, her backside repeatedly rolling into me, keeping perfect tempo no matter the beat of the song currently playing. To clarify, it's hot, that's the one thing, and it takes a considerable amount of effort to keep a straight face while it happens- especially considering how gay I am. Rose dips and winds her way down, and her fingertips run along the side of my face as she goes- leaving a tingling trail of sensation in their wake. Then she effortlessly brings it right back up, and it's cruel, really, because I can't react how any sane person would want to, well- partially sane at this point, because she's definitely driving me crazy right now.

But then she's turning towards me, and that's when it hits me that I'm fucked. My hands instinctively find their way to her hips and impatiently pull her further into me as they maybe kinda work their way around to grab her ass- whoops. She slowly starts to lean in, and my inhibitions are long gone at this point. Right now, who's watching and what they'd think doesn't matter to me in the slightest, the only thing that matters is feeling Rose's lips against mine.

She's winding me up, it turns out, because suddenly the distance between us is growing rather than shrinking, and she grins at me deviously as she backs away, like this was all just to prove a point- to make sure I hadn't forgotten that I'm powerless around her, that I'm desperate for her touch, that she can make me wet whenever she wants to, and, worst of all, that she's fully aware of the effect she has on me.

My stubbornness suppresses the pout threatening its way to the surface, barely.

The corner of Rose's mouth quirks, like I passed some test, or maybe she's merely amused by the internal conflict she's causing, “Meet me in the bathroom,” she instructs quietly.

My response should be downright refusal, to brush off Rose and her never ending trickery so as to shift the power back in my direction, but instead- “When?”

Rose looks back over her shoulder and lifts a brow just enough for me to notice, “Before I change my mind.”

And, well, that gets me moving.

The bathroom door hasn't even closed behind me before Rose's mouth is on mine. She kisses me with reckless abandon, and wastes no time in advancing the, uh, activities. Maybe I'm not the only one feeling desperate for this, us. In no time at all, I've got her thrown onto the counter between sinks, dress hiked up, panties pushed to the side, my fingers discovering, and reveling in, how wet she is for me.

She breaks the kiss for a moment to murmur, “Fuck,” into my ear, and my breath hitches as I shudder in response. Being the one to make Rose feel this way is the best feeling ever. Though this isn't my typical M.O., my current state has me moments away from entering Rose. Instead, my heart skips a beat when the door suddenly lurches back and forth, quickly followed by a series of pounding. Well, at least one of us had the foresight to lock the door. You go, drunk Rose- who groans as she leans her head back against the mirror for a brief moment. She sighs and looks at me in disappointment before slowly sliding forward and hopping off the counter, “To be continued then.”

“If you're lucky.”

Rose catches the reference and winks, “I like my chances.” The smile following her sass is sweet, and I'm quick to mirror it. The moment breaks as the next wave of pounding ensues, paired with Ash's booming voice, “Okay, whoever's fucking in there better finish up quick before I kick down this damn door.”

We stifle laughter as we open the door. Ash furrows her brow, cracks a grin, and then cackles, “Oh, sorry, it's just you guys, thought people were getting down in there.”

“Ew, who would even do that? Public bathrooms are filthy,” Rose responds as she slides past Ash and makes her way back out to the club. She's _too_ good at this, and it's dangerous- scary even.

Upon spotting me, Lindsey races over and starts pulling me towards the team table, _“There_ you are! C'mon! Naeher's about to crush Mal, and it's going to be amazing.”

Asking what it is Naeher's about to crush Mal at takes a back seat to glancing over at Rose, who grins at me and motions that she's headed to the bar to grab drinks.

**...**

An arm wrestle: that's what's on the table, literally, and about to begin. It's not that I'm uninterested in Mal's smack talk, how Naeher simply shakes her head in response without uttering a single word- her calm confidence as intimidating as ever.

It's just that I'm too caught up thinking about how good life is right now, so the sound waves carrying words being spoken around me flit in and out of the space between my ears without them being processed.

Rose and I are doing better than ever and maybe, just maybe, we'll actually start to- wait, who's _that_?

The team roars as the battle begins, but it's all hushed, almost like a series of whispers, as my body leans away from the action to get a better view. Rose is still over at the bar for what's supposed to be our next round of drinks, except she's doubled over in laughter, and her hand's on what looks to be an extremely buff shoulder.

She stands back upright, eyes glued to his, smile as wide as I've seen it before. She's vibing with this dude. Fuck, she's vibing- with a _dude_. A hot dude nonetheless: he's tall, clearly physically fit, somehow rugged yet put together, and well-groomed without coming off as uptight. Yeah, he's definitely hot, and Rose certainly seems to be under his spell as she follows him out of sight to the back of the club, hands joined together.

Naturally, the next twenty minutes consist of me pretending to be fine while being anything but- distractedly biting my thumbnail, effectively grinding it down to a pulp. My eyes remain glued to the hallway separating the back and front halves of the club- the hallway Rose will walk through on her way back from doing whatever the hell she's doing with that guy right now.

And, because my eyes are glued to said hallway, it's easy to spot Rose when she makes her way through it another fifteen minutes later, once again led by him, hands joined as though they've been all along. It's possible Rose can sense she has daggered eyes on her, because she looks up and meets mine, before quickly averting her attention away sheepishly. Welp, that's always a good sign.

At my request, Linds and I ditch the table and its inhabitants for the dance floor. There's a tinge of guilt in knowing she probably thinks it's for some bff bonding time, when really it's to obtain a better vantage point for Rose watching. Don't get me wrong, part of me is trying to think positive, to not catastrophize, to just relax and enjoy Pinoe demonstrating the proper way to floss and Ali trying, and failing, to mirror her movements. Part of me wants to incite a dance battle, do anything that'll keep myself otherwise occupied- but at the end of the day, it's impossible to keep my eyes away from Rose.

She's at the bar, with him, again, and while Rose is talking with the bartender, the guy leans over to some dude next to him and gestures at Rose with this knowing smile on his face. The other guy smirks and nods his head, seemingly in approval. And _this_ right here, this is where my patience ends, with Rose taking down drink six and some d-bag clearly trying to take advantage of her. She's already drunk enough and acting completely out of character- hanging all over him and kissing his cheek. So yeah, that's it- decision made, I'm going over there and teaching this dickhead a lesson on how to treat a lady.

Except a firm grip wraps around my bicep and yanks me back before I can move more than two steps towards the bar.

“Easy there, tiger- you good? See you've got your angry eyes out, and I'm really not trying to partake in a bar fight tonight,” Kelley informs.

“It's-”

“Rose,” Kelley supplies, “Yeah, you've been watching her like a hawk all night. Hate to be the one to tell you this, but you gotta let her make her own choices- you can't control her.”

“I'm not trying to- she's drunk, and he's clearly taking advantage of that fact!”

Kelley sighs, like she's about to go against her better judgment, “Okay, what if I go check on her for you- would that help?”

“Fine.”

“Good, go sit and wait. I'll be back.”

She returns minutes later, bearing anything but good news, “So.. Rose said she's good,” her face falls as she continues, “and she's bringing him over I guess, wants to introduce him to the team or something.”

“The fuck!?”

“No idea, bud.”

Before the completely warranted rant I'm about to spew can commence, they materialize above Kelley's shoulder, quickly approaching the table. Rose is smiling excitedly, like she just can't wait to introduce us to her Prince Charming, and I'm either about to vomit or throw punches, unclear which. But then, suddenly, she's turned back to face him, and rerouting them to the dance floor.

Kelley eyes me nervously as I contemplate my next move, “I'm going in.”

“No, Son- it's a bad idea,” Kelley warns, but I'm already trailing them through the crowd so I can watch the events set to transpire, explaining, “I have to see it, Kel.”

There they are, worked in with the team, dancing away- just like _we_ were earlier.

Aw, how fitting, Dancing with a Stranger is playing, and they're singing the respective guy and girl parts to each other. Blegh, how hetero, and the urge is there again- to either throw up or throw down.

He's all up in Rose's personal space, and I don't want to share that space- that closeness- I want it to be all mine. Except it's not- not at all. It's like I'm nothing to her, like we're nothing, like we're so obviously nothing Rose wouldn't even think twice do this in front of me, an hour after making out with me in the bathroom no less, almost like she's intentionally reminding me just how nothing we are, like she thinks I need the reminder. And she's right, I do, because I've been foolish enough to let myself start to believe we could actually be something.

“Wow,” Kelley says when she catches up, “Okay, let's call it a night, I'm all danced out anyways. Just let me tell Abby and grab my bag- c'mon.”

Her hand's on my arm again, trying to lead me away instead of holding me back, but she fails this time.

“Stay right here then- I mean it, Son.”

Like I'm going anywhere. No, I'm frozen, rooted, completely paralyzed by the sight before me.

Kelley comes back just in time for it, for him to twirl her and then kiss her cheek at the end of the song, for the team to immediately crowd around them demanding answers, for Rose to introduce him proudly while holding his hand, “I can't be here right now.”

Kelley tries to console me in the Uber back to the hotel, but I'm too lost in thought to listen.

This is all a game to Rose, as she repeatedly likes to demonstrate. I'm just a pawn to her, hell- I'm less than a pawn, I'm merely empty space for her to trample over.

And this feeling- this gutted, destroyed feeling of defeat- _this_ is what it should have felt like when Chelsea cheated on me. But it didn't, because I didn't love her anymore, and I know why this- doesn't matter, I'm just a placeholder until a hot guy can come along. How could I have misread the situation so badly when Rose literally called this an experiment from the get-go? I'm such an idiot- because yeah, sure, I'm hurt, but we aren't together. Rose doesn't owe me anything, and she's not doing anything wrong.

I've nobody to blame but me for breaking my own rule and letting myself get too deep into this. And yet, I hate Rose. I hate her for making it undeniably obvious just how fucking fragile she makes me, how easily she can break me.

The tears I've been biting back finally escape once we're inside Kelley's hotel room, and she holds me on the bathroom floor as I alternate between crying into her shoulder and puking into the toilet until, eventually, there's nothing left to throw up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize it's been awhile, so feel free to drop a comment and let me know if you're still reading this / what you think.


	16. Look Who's Talking Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The grass is always greener.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're curious how things are looking on the other side of the fence..

“What's on my mind?..”

Her big, round eyes look back at me seriously; she can always tell when something's off. 

“Are you sure you want to know?..”

She remains steadfastly silent, “Okay, but like, are you _positive_?”

“Woah, no need for the death glare; I'm not trying to be patronizing- I just know you get emotional sometimes and don't wanna upset you.”

Her expression remains unchanged, promptingmy concession, “Alright then, I'll tell you, but remember- you asked for it.”

My index finger mindlessly zigzags over the border of where a large, brown spot meets its white backdrop as I begin, “Let's see.. oh, I know, we can start with control- how it's so hard to attain yet so easy to lose. You'd think people'd be more purposeful about hanging onto it, but I swear I've seen so many just throw it away over relationships completely doomed from the start.”

The zigzags soon give way to spirals, “It's one thing to project an aura of control, which almost becomes second nature with enough practice. What am I saying? You've got the best poker face in town- you already know that, but for me, it's an entirely different thing to actually feel it. And there's nothing like the quiet hours of night when nobody else is awake to routinely remind me how elusive it is.”

Wilma picks her head up attentively, mouth hanging open and breathing heavily- ever the empathetic listener.

“It's terrifying.. how we work so hard day in and day out and can have our careers ended in a matter of seconds. Maybe it'll be from an injury, maybe someone better will come along, maybe the team dynamics will shift until I'm not the right fit, or maybe I'll just wake up one day and not be able to handle the pressure anymore.”

Before I know it, I'm grabbing the blanket draped over the back of the couch and lying down next to Wilma.

“Seems like we all have our different ways of dealing with it- the lack of control.. Kelley brings up going to Stanford to mask her insecurities, Abby does yoga to center herself, Mal goes shopping to 'look fly, feel fly', Sam asks Kristie for sisterly advice, Lindsey.. I don't know what Lindsey does actually, you'd have to ask Sonny..”

Her ears perk up at hearing Em's name, and it makes my stomach clench, “Yeah that's right, Wilma, Sonny- of course she'd know, because her thing is she brings everyone together. She creates harmony where there'd probably otherwise be competition induced chaos- because she's amazing.. I, on the other hand, shut people out- because I'm the worst.”

Wilma paws at my side firmly- perhaps in protest, perhaps demanding to be pet. I'll humor both possibilities to be safe.

“It's true, I'm not open with others like I am with you. I didn't even realize I do it until recently, but now I see it- this wall I don't let people past, _especially_ not anyone that makes me feel vulnerable. Because I don't have time to be vulnerable, I've got a World Cup to win. I mean, you get it right?”

Wilma grunts as she tosses her head over her shoulder to look out the window- she definitely gets it.

“Then Chelsea had to go be a twat and cheat on Sonny, and everything slowly started to unravel. I just- I needed her to be taken- it made it all manageable. But no, then there was sad Son sulking away on Mal's bed, and I couldn't not do something. Like, honestly, I tried telling myself not to, it wasn't an option. I couldn't not make Chelsea see how dumb she is for not appreciating what she had- and seeing how lucky she was to have it.”

A dramatic yawn without looking back over from the window confirms Wilma's calling me out for stalling again, which she never hesitates to do by the way.. better cut to the chase.

“Okay, okay- then the _incident_ happened, and things started to get away from me. Because I had a taste, and I wanted more. Ew, if she were here right now she'd make a horrible Katy Perry joke, and I wouldn't even care, that's how much I- anyway, obviously I had to downplay it all. What was I supposed to say 'Yeah Son I've been pretty sure I'm into you for the last year until you accidentally just kissed me while thinking about whoever you're actually interested in and now I'm _damn_ sure?'"

"Absolutely not, so I minimized. You can't blame me though, she'd always treated me like a sister. Even if she hadn't, it would've only been a matter of time before she found someone more experienced, more attractive, more- _out._ I mean, who _wouldn't_ want to date Son? She'd go back to Portland and meet someone in a heartbeat, and then I'd be crushed.”

Now resting her head against the arm of the couch, Wilma lets out a long breath, sending her cheeks flapping like a pair of wings, “Exactly, Wilma, doomed from the start. Admittedly, I thought there may have been flashes of hope here and there, but that was me grasping for straws... because Em makes me feel this sort of– desperation. It's abhorrent, and I did everything I could to hide it. I guess I thought if I acted like I was in control of the situation maybe I'd feel it too.”

“The first time we slept together she wouldn't even let me touch her, like she was repulsed by the thought- like I was a charity hook-up. But then something changed. She told me I was beautiful, and it wasn't in a sisterly way.. it wasn't out of pity- at least it didn't seem that way at the time. No, that time felt real. So I thought maybe we had a chance- maybe she'd wait for me to figure it out after all. And I wanted to.. I just didn't know how.”

Wilma whines in exasperation, so I start scratching behind her ears, which seems to appease her.

“It was like finding a four leaf clover when I metSergio. Seriously, it was exhilarating meeting someone who could relate- oh you'd love him. It was the first time I could just be honest with someone from the start- about who I am, and who I want, and how exhausted I am from hiding it all the time.. from acting like I've got it _all_ together when I really don't. I finally felt ready to do what I've wanted to do deep down since the beginning- but then I never got the chance.”

“I don't blame Em for realizing she could do better, that she _deserves_ better. I just thought we were close enough where she'd talk to me about it so we could stay friends. All she had to do was say she wasn't interested in anything serious- I can handle the truth.”

“God it's so ironic though, that in attempts to maintain control, a completely unattainable goal as I'm finding, I've lost the one person who's ever started to make me feel like I could actually be kinda okay without it. No, don't look at me like that- like I'm wise beyond my years or something. It took losing her to make me realize it; that's about as unwise as I could be.”  
  


“The silence- the unread texts, the unreturned calls- that's what it took to _finally_ make me see how selfish I've been, how unfair. I hadn't even realized Son left that night because I was so wrapped up in myself. I should've been watching out for her like she always does for me. By the time I went looking for her, she'd already gone.. and hasn't spoken to me since.”

“I hurried back to the hotel once I heard, but she wasn't in our room, and then Kelley finally texted me back that she was crashing with her- so I figured we'd talk in the morning. But _then_ Kelley showed up to get Son's stuff and said I 'have some nerve', whatever that means.”

“So yeah, since then- radio silence, like how Lulughosted you at puppy daycare when her family moved without even saying goodbye. Ugh, life can be truly devastating.”

“Rose, you okay, hun? We've been waiting out front for twenty minutes.”

“What? Oh, I'm fine, Mom. Just saying bye to Wilma.” That statement would probably be more convincing if I weren't in full cocoon mode, but I don't bother sitting up to sell it.

She pauses to assess me before concluding, “I know it's always hard for you, but she'll be here next time you visit- and you can call anytime with that video thing you kids do.. We just don't want you to miss your flight.”

“Yeah- yeah of course. Be right there.”

After the screen door closes and I hurriedly wipe my eyes, my voice drops as I kiss the top of Wilma's head, “Has anyone ever told you you're an exceptional conversationalist? Because you are; you're the bestest.. and you're right, as always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading<3


	17. Respecting Boundaries, Maintaining Perimeters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonnett sticks to the silent treatment. Rose resorts to plan B.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI Sonny has a tough time mentally in part of this chapter, so I hope that's not triggering for anyone. But also, all's well that ends well??

My alarm goes off at 7 AM right as planned, but that's not what wakes me up.

Heh, no. I've been awake for hours. And I'm not turning it off, either. Lindsey can get it- I'm not moving.

Yeah, that's right, I'm not going anywhere or doing anything today.

Self-destructive? Maybe, but whatever. I just can't do life right now.

Sure enough, Lindsey groans as she reaches over from her side of the room, repeatedly slapping at my phone until the alarm shuts off- then, “Wake up sleepyhead.”

She continues as she rolls out of bed, “And while you're at it, get ready for another glorious day of me kicking your ass on the field.”

“Except I'm not practicing today,” I inform, staring up at the stucco ceiling. Avoiding eye contact as long as possible.

Lindsey chuckles as she stretches her arms above her head, “Good one.”

“I'm dead serious,” I explain.

“You can't just not practice, Son. You know that,” she reminds as she crosses the room.

I feign a cough, “I'm sick.”

Lindsey turns back from her dresser looking unamused, “You're not sick.”

“I threw up.” The back of my hand finds my forehead to “check” if it feels hot, hoping to convey a host of symptoms are at play here.

She sighs, patience wearing thin, “No, you didn't, and you don't have a fever either.”

“Fine, I don't. But tell them I do.”

“Come on dude,” she taps my ankles through the covers, “quit dicking around and get up. I need coffee asap.”

“I'm seriously not practicing, and I'm not getting breakfast either.”

“Okay, wanna tell me what the heck's going on with you? You've been weirder than normal lately,” Lindsey says, forehead creased in concern.

“Nothing. I'm just not going.”

“And you do realize the last camp before World Cup roster cuts isn't the time to play hooky, right?”

“I know,” I defeatedly agree, “but I really can't today.”

She steps closer, voice softening, “You're sure? Can I do anything?”

“Yes- and no.”

Lindsey shakes her head apprehensively, “Alright. Well, I'll cover for you best I can.”

“Thanks.”

The door clicks closed behind her a few minutes later, and the ensuing silence wraps around me like a weighted blanket. Alone, I don't have to pretend; I don't have to explain- I can just be.

After five serene minutes of solitude, it's as though that blanket morphs into a python. Because suddenly I'm suffocating in the realization that I haven't experienced emptiness until now- not truly, not like this.

I've felt what I thought was emptiness, but it turns out emptiness isn't an emotion you feel at all. It's a state of existence that overtakes you, that erodes you from the inside out like a cancer.

It's the realization that your hope was foolish, your joy was wasted, and your efforts to open up were in vain.

It's discovering you never really had a chance and were naive to think you ever did.

Emptiness is losing what made you happiest before you ever really had it, before it was ever really yours and, what's worse, just when you thought you might finally attain it.

So no, I don't feel empty, I _am_ empty, and empty is me. We aren't a pairing of parasite and host, we're one plagued entity.

It was one thing over break, when I could avoid it all, but I can't do that here at camp. Just seeing her in the lobby for room assignments yesterday made my skin crawl. And now I'm skipping practice.. and shutting Lindsey out- so all the good things, I guess.

And Rose? Oh, she's perfectly fine of course. In fact, she keeps trying to talk to me like nothing happened: texts, calls, voicemails claiming she's “worried” she hasn't heard back from me.

Yup, the master manipulator is at it again.

What does she want to “hear back” about? That I hated seeing her with someone else? That I was jealous? That it hurt?

She'd probably get off on it, and I'm not giving her that satisfaction.

**…**

Lindsey chucks her bag on the chair as she breezes by, “Hey, I brought you a bagel and-”, her face falls when she finds me sitting under the covers, still wearing my pj's, “Please tell me you haven't been in bed this whole time.”

“I haven't been in bed this whole time.” My monotone voice sounds like it's coming from someone else entirely, and my eyes remain glued to the TV even though I'm not actively watching it.

“Real convincing,” she says, setting the plate on the bedside table.

A half-assed shrug is all she gets in reply.

“So you're officially starting to freak me out. I gotta head to lift in a few, but eat that, and Rose said she'll come hang with you since she can't do leg day yet.”

“NO!”

Lindsey frowns, “Okay princess, here's an idea: get outta bed, walk your ass down to the lobby, and get yourself something else to eat then.”

“Not the- bagel's fine, thank you. I meant I don't wanna see Rose.”

“Why?” Lindsey questions, an eyebrow quirking as she continues seriously, “What'd she do now?”

“Don't wanna talk about it.”

Lindsey shakes her head knowingly, “See, this is why I tried giving you guys time apart last camp; I knew something was off.”  
  


Before I can reiterate that I have no intention of discussing the topic further, two knocks thump against the door.

“Don't let her in,” I request, adding, “Seriously,” when Lindsey doesn't respond quickly enough for my liking.

Finally, she nods, “Copy that.”

Lindsey crosses the room, answers the door, and then pulls it closed behind her until only a sliver of opening remains- almost like a parent trying to shield their kid from an unpleasant conversation about to transpire.

Naturally, it makes me rush over to eavesdrop.. what? At least I'm out of bed.

“What the hell'd you do to her?” Lindsey demands.

“Nothing. Why, what'd she say?” Rose asks innocently, and now I actually am starting to feel sick to my stomach.

“Doesn't seem like nothing, she's like- broken, or something. And all she'll _say_ is she doesn't want to see you, so.. way to go,” Lindsey chides.

There's a light tap against the door, “Okay, just let me in. I'll figure it out.”

“Can't let you do that,” Lindsey informs, voice tensing.

“Why not?” Rose asks tersely.

Lindsey firmly repeats herself, “As I just said, she doesn't wanna see you right now.”

Rose exhales heavily- same way she always does when trying to keep her temper in check, “I know you probably think you're helping right now, but you're not. Let me talk to her so we can sort things out.”

“I'm not sure I can make this much clearer for you,” Lindsey responds, completely unfazed,

“Please Linds,” Rose says, and her voice cracks. It almost sounds.. fragile? Sad? Not to mention a “sincere” please from Rose? Wow, she's pulling out all the stops for today's performance, folks.

Lindsey stays strong though, “Sorry, but we both know where my loyalty lies here.”

Rose assures, “Yeah, right next to mine. So you of all people should know I just wanna fix whatever's going on.”

“I really don't have time for this right now. I'm gonna be late for lift, and then that'll be on you too. Give her space; it's what she wants.”

“Great. Thanks for nothing,” Rose hisses through the closing door.

_There_ she is- knew the sad girl bit was an act.

Lindsey flinches when I ambush her with a hug, “Thanks, Linds.”

“You got it,” she grumbles, grabbing her bag as she continues, “She seemed concerned, maybe you should hear her out. Or at least talk to me about it later?”

“Nah, I'm good.”

“Alright then, I'll maintain the perimeter. But you're gonna see her around, so you better get used to it.. because you _will_ be practicing tomorrow. I'm not letting Rose ruin your career, and neither are you.”

**…**

Lindsey stops by to check on me after lifting and tries to convince me to join the team for dinner, promising she'll beat Rose up if she so much as glances in my direction.

I'm decidedly dead to the world today though, and she finally gives up and leaves after I refuse for the tenth time.

My phone dings soon after, and I'm fully prepared to ignore what's likely a text from Lindsey asking, “Are you sure you don't wanna come eat?”

_Again._

But it's not Lindsey, it's Sam asking to borrow my lotion. Don't blame her, my stuff's the best. Seriously: dry, flaking skin? It'll have you fixed up in no time.

It's admittedly a bit strange she's texting me about it at dinnertime, but she used the word urgently, and Lord knows how neglectful she is when it comes to moisturizing. Unfortunately, it lands her in dire situations from time to time.

Poor thing: her arms are probably near psoriasis level again after a day out in the hot Florida sun, so I agree, and she confirms she'll be over in a couple minutes.

I'm in the process of digging through my bag for it when she knocks on the door.

“Okay so you can actually keep this one because-” I immediately drop off when I look up to find Rose staring back at me, “You're not Sam.”

Rose simply holds Sam's phone up in reply, our texts still shown on the screen. I search her face, but the gotcha expression I expect to see isn't there. She doesn't seem hopped up on the high of a successful swindle at all; she seems off.

Regardless, I try to shut the door on her as quickly as possible, but Rose barrels past me- elbow banging into the door as she darts under my arm.

“Rose, what the actual fuck?” I call after her, spinning around, “Didn't anybody teach you about respecting boundaries when you were a kid?”

“Must have called in sick that day,” she replies pointedly, arms crossed in front of her.

Soooooooo cleverrrrrrrrr.

“What d'you want?” I ask irritably, tossing the lotion on the counter and crossing my arms right back at Rose.

“Why weren't you at practice?” she quizzes.

“Don't worry about it.”

She laughs her 'I'm about to rip you a new asshole' laugh, “If you wanna hate me, fine. But you do _not_ get to throw away the opportunity to play in a World Cup when there's a zillion people out there who'd kill for it.”

“That's really none of your concern, so if that's all..”

“This is such bullshit- Son you made me promise not to shut you out, remember that? And now that's exactly what you're doing to me. I thought we'd at least be honest with each other after everything we've been through together.”

Gotta love a good gaslighting. “Are you serious right now? God I'm so sick of you and your mind games. Can you please go?” I ask, arm outstretched to the door in case she forgot which way she came in.

Rose flashes a confused look, “I'm not following- what mind games?”

She really wants to go there, eh? Okay Rosie, let's dance, “Cut the shit- I saw you with the guy at the club. And don't try to deny it: I saw you laughing at the bar, sneaking off holding hands and dancing all over each other. And it's fine, do whatever you want. It's none of my business- just leave me alone.”

Rose slowly questions, “Okay, but what does any of that have to do with-”

“You know I might not think the highest of myself, but I do know I deserve more than being someone's sloppy seconds at least.”

Rose squints at me, “Sloppy seconds.. what the hell are you- oh my God, _that's_ what this is about? Son, nothing happened with the guy at the club.”

“HAHAHA,” my laugh sounds borderline deranged, “You really expect me to believe that?”

“Mhm, I do,” she says evenly, “Primarily because he's gay.. since you obviously don't trust _my_ intentions.”

“Gay..” I repeat doubtfully.

“As a bag of Skittles,” Rose confirms tepidly.

When I fail to reply, she asks, “What?”

“That's not a thing.”

“Oh,” she says, stubbornly adding, “should be.”

“So you're saying you _weren't_ hooking up when you disappeared with him for five years?”

“Em, _no._ We were just chatting.”

“Chatting..”

“Yes, chatting,” Rose confirms. She pulls in a big breath before continuing, “About how..”

She trails off, closing her eyes on the exhale, and then finally enlightens me, “How I kinda have feelings for you.. or whatever.”

She bites the corner of her lip as she awaits my reply.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You're serious?”

“Yeah.” She repeats, though notably shorter this time.

“Sorry, to confirm, what type of feelings do you have for me, exactly? And let me just say, if you're going through all this trouble to do something mean to me, there truly is no hope for you.”

“Please stop talking,” Rose says, pulling me in by the collar until our lips meet.

It takes a solid ten seconds for me to realize I'm not dreaming.

That Rose is actually here, kissing me.. and not some random guy.

That she never kissed him in the first place.

That she has _feelings_ for me.

But when it settles in, I don't waste another minute. Because suddenly I'm not empty at all. Suddenly I'm bursting at the seams- overcome not by a numbed out need for isolation, but by a burning desire for connection.

I pick her up mid-kiss, carry her over to the bed, and lower us until I'm on top of her, matter-of-factly informing, “I want you so fucking bad right now.”

“Oh God,” Rose whispers, likely surprised I've managed to turn things around from the fumbling of moments prior.

Shouldn't be _that_ much of a shock- people are always telling me I have my redeeming moments.

But then that's all she says, and it has me pausing tentatively.

She appears to be questioning the correct course of action, so I start to back off, but then she snaps forward- tugging me closer as she rips my shirt off and then hurriedly removing her own afterwards.

Back in the driver's seat, my hands race down her sides- pulling her pants off as they go.

Then her lips are on mine again.

And every part of it feels like coming home: how wet she is for me, the way her back arches as I enter her, how her body repeatedly pulses into my thrusts- like it's been craving my touch all along, the want in her eyes before they slam closed, the moan emitted when my teeth pinch her nipple, the way her voice strains as she informs, “You're gonna make me come.”

She's damn right I am- and moments later, I do. She pulls me into her tightly, scratching the shit out of my shoulders in the process.

I bite my lip as she looks up at me afterwards: eyes wide, cheeks flushed, completely out of breath.

Now that's a job well done.

“Lie down,” she instructs between choppy exhales, impatiently tugging at my arm.

And now it's all happening in reverse. It's her on top- eyes scanning over me, fingers finding their way inside. It's her making me lose my breath, bringing me right to the brink of unraveling into her touch.

I'm coming before I know it, and well before I should be. It's the mounted frustration of the past couple weeks, the relief in Rose's revelation, and the not-so-distant memory of her coming surrounding me from all sides- forcing me into an untimely surrender.

I pull her in just as tightly as she did to me, and shrieked breaths escape as my body releases all the built up tension.

Five minutes later, we're throwing on various articles of clothing, neither of us quite managing to say anything. Rose finally slips Sam's phone into her pocket once fully dressed.

“How'd you know Sam likes my lotion? And why d'you have her phone anyways?”

“Um, because I pay attention. And because I.. borrowed it,” she says with the hint of a smirk at the tail end.

“And does she _know_ you borrowed it?”

“She will once I give it back,” she says, smile widening.

“You're horrible- go bring the girl her phone.”

“Relax, I'm kidding. Sheesh,” Rose says defensively as she makes for the door, but I'm not fully convinced.

“Here,” I hand over the tube of lotion, “Might as well give her that too, I'm sure she'll need it soon if she doesn't already.”

“But what if I need an excuse to talk to you again?”

“You don't need an excuse.” I dig a hand into my pocket and usher myself onward to awkward apology time, “I'm sorry I shut you out, I really thought that..”

“I get it, sorry I gave the wrong impression. I should've told you how I feel about you sooner.”

“No, I mean maybe, but I- I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. Guess Chelsea messed my head up more than I realized.”

Rose reaches out and squeezes my hand, “It's okay. We're good now though, right?”

“Yeah.”

She nods her understanding, then frowns slightly, “I'd never do what she did to you.”

“Better not, because I have feelings for you too,” I smirk while adding, “or whatever.”

But Rose doesn't laugh like I'd intended, she just nods a few more times, like maybe what I said was something she'd already inferred but still really needed to hear.

Instinctively, I pull her into a hug, and she burrows her face into the curve of my neck.

“I missed you,” she eventually says- quietly, voice trembling.

I hold her as closely as possible, hoping to somehow make up for the time I've spent pushing her away, “Missed you too.” I brush my lips against her temple and then rest my cheek against her head.

It happens so abruptly neither of us can react in time: Lindsey throwing the door open on us. We immediately release each other, Rose inhaling sharply through her nose and rapidly blinking on her backpedal.

She skirts out into the hallway without delay- murmuring, “Lindsey,” as she passes by and weakly grinning back over her shoulder at me before crossing out of sight.

And it strikes me then, clear as day, that Rose out of sight is the absolute last thing I want.

I let my insecurity get the best of me, and I hurt her. Because Rose's hard exterior is nothing but sheet metal. She's not indestructible- and fuck, I've been really unfair.

Tears threaten to well up, but the light slam of the door behind Lindsey keeps them at bay.

She's watching me intently with a bemused hand thrown in the air, “I don't understand you two. At all.”

“Kinda hard to explain.” It's a shit excuse, but I silently pray it'll suffice, because resisting the urge to chase after Rose is consuming a majority of my bandwidth at the moment.

Lindsey looks at me skeptically, but I finally seem to have worn her down, “Okay, whatever.. just be up in the morning.”

That night, I lie awake staring at the recurring flash of the smoke detector for quite some time.

Sitting in the effect I've likely had on Rose over the past weeks.

Thinking about how I was mad at her for something she didn't even do.

How I assumed the worst of her.

How I repeatedly ignored her attempts to fix things between us.

How I've been a selfish prick.

I hurt her..

I repeat it to myself over and over -with each flicker of red- until exhaustion forces me to sleep.

Because hurting Rose is something I don't ever want to do again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Feelings?
> 
> I, for one, cannot take any more angst.. but I mean, if you guys really want it..


	18. The Date-Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun, fluff and sneaky stuff.

Once again, I didn't get much sleep.. I'm not sure what time I finally ended up dozing off last night, and the only other occupants of the hotel restaurant right now are an elderly couple.

Unlike yesterday, however, I have a renewed energy about me—paired with a newfound resolve.

After a sufficient amount of self scolding, I'm ready to move on to the next order of business. And well, Sheryl Crow can have her fun, 'cause all _I_ wanna do is make things up to Rose.

Yeah, I know, I've got plenty of work to do in that department. But don't worry, I've also got a plan.. it's high time I show Rose what I'm made of.

And actually, if all goes well, we'll have some fun too.

It all starts with a simple question.. one I might not have to wait long to ask considering Rose is on her way to my table right now. Which is shocking given the time.

“Morning,” Rose yawns out, sinking into the chair across from me.

“You're up early.”

“Becky gets up at the ass-crack of dawn so.. didn't have much of a choice,” she says, rubbing at her eyes.

“Ah, gotcha.”

“What about you?” she asks, plucking a container of grape jelly from the rack and sliding it across the table. “Can't imagine Lindsey peer pressuring you out of bed.”

“Me? Um. No, I'm just down here..” I send the jelly shooting back in Rose's direction, “planning out my daily goals and such.”

“Your daily goals,” she says, surveying me as she flicks the jelly's pull tab corner up and down.

This isn't the start I was hoping for. Time to course correct. “So look, I'm glad you're here actually. I wanted to ask you something.”

Rose helps herself to a swig of my coffee. “Okay..”

“Right, I was wondering if you'd—”

“Good morning,” Becky greets, having materialized at Rose's side. Hadn't even seen her coming I was so focused on Rose.

“Hey, Becky,” I reply, praying she won't sit down.

She drops into the chair next to Rose and buries her head in her phone.

Dang it.

“You were saying?” Rose asks.

Becky glances up, continuing to type away.

“Oh, uh, I was just wondering if we could warm-up together.”

Rose's head tilts to the side, and I'm not sure if she's formulating a response or just so tired she's about to fall asleep on Becky's shoulder. Before I get confirmation either way, the waiter shows up to take their orders.

Afterwards, Becky decides she's done with texting and starts to tell us all about the book she's reading. And by the time she's finished that up, the rest of the team is trickling in.

Splendid.

**...**

In downright refusal to be thrown any further off course, I follow Rose closely out to the field so I can finagle my way between her and Sam, who usually warm-up together.

Not today, Sammy.

Once we're finally alone—and by alone I mean people are all around but nobody's within earshot—I can finally ask my real question from earlier.

A strong breeze blusters by, sending the ends of Rose's high ponytail smacking into her face. Sucks to suck, should have been facing the wind like me. If I were to let my hair down right now it'd be something straight out of a shampoo commercial.

She scowls as she swats away at her hair, and I can't help but laugh at the scene.

Rose, as expected, lashes out the second the wind dies down, “Wanna tell my why you're so hell-bent on warming-up with me today? Or were you just gonna stand there laughing?”

“Because. I've been _trying_ to see if I can take you out tonight.”

“Really?” she brightens. Then frowns. As though caught somewhere in the middle out of principle.

I nod.

“Huh,” she muses. Then, the smirk I know all too well surfaces. “D'you mean, like, for another not-date or..?”

“Funny. And no. For a.. date-date.”

Rose clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “Oh, so a _real_ date this time.”

Why couldn't I just like Lindsey? Or Sam? Hell, even Kelley would probably be less painful.

“Know what? Never mind. I'd rather hang with the team anyways.”

Rose chuckles—apparently my annoyance qualifies as a victory in her book right alongside my discomfort—but softens in her reply, “I'd love to go out with you Em.”

I have every intention of making her work harder for it, but then she adds, “Just let me know what time and I'll be ready for you.”

And something about the way she says it seems to level the playing field.

“I'll pick you up at 7 PM. Don't be late.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” she says, a twinkle in her eye.

**...**

At quarter to 7, I'm squeaky clean, smellin' fresh, fully dressed and on to the finishing touch of preparing for my date with Rose. And _that's_ why I'm propping up against the cement wall of the hotel with my hand wrapped around the pair of scissors in my pocket—which I'll slip back into the trainer's bag tomorrow—waiting for the right moment to pounce.

You see, the hotel flower beds are quite lovely. Unfortunately, it means there will be casualties. Because a handful of flowers—don't ask me what kind they are.. purple, that's what kind—are coming out of the back row and into the hotel with me.

There's eventually a lull between guests coming and going, and I move swiftly to acquire enough flowers for a small bouquet in the lapse. I then enter the building through the side entrance so as to avoid detection and head straight up the stairs to Rose's room. A glance at my watch informs I'm arriving right on time.

Rose opens the door, back lit by the sun setting through the window behind her.

She's divine: hair falling into elegant waves, lips a subtle shade of red, eyes accentuated by a hint of eyeliner though they pack plenty a punch all on their own.

“Wanna come in?”

The question itself could easily be a taunt, especially coming from Rose, but there isn't any ill intent in her eyes. She blinks back at me like she's waking up from a daydream herself and her cheeks are pink even though I didn't notice any makeup there a moment ago.

“What? Yeah. Uh, here,” I deliver the flowers as I step inside, “these are for you.”

Rose accepts them and asks, “When did you have time to get these?”

I smirk. “Just now.”

Rose studies the flowers closer, eyes moving from the colorful petals down the uneven stem lengths and finally landing on the sloppily cut ends, “Are these.. are they from outside the hotel?”

I pull the scissors from my pocket and spin them around my index finger. “Maybe.”

She beams at me. “Amazing.”

“You like 'em?”

“I love them. Anyone can buy me flowers. But _not_ everyone would be willing to raid the hotel garden for me.”

“Thought these might be more your speed.”

She chuckles. “Just the visual of you stooping down to hack away is something I'll treasure forever.”

You feel that? That's momentum building right there, and it's invigorating. “You're very welcome. Ready to go?”

“Yes. Told you I'd be ready for you,” she reminds. “Let me just put these in water first. Wouldn't want your hard work to go to waste now, would we?”

Rose grabs a water bottle from her bag—tossing the top back inside—and fills it in the bathroom sink. She plops the flowers in, primps them a bit, and then pauses to smile at them for a moment. She wasn't just jabbing. She really does like them.

Soon, Rose is peering at me from across the elevator. She does a double take at my upper body. “Cute shirt.”

I'd found it at the bottom of my bag from last camp: my black polo with the little white roses on it. Probably a good thing it went missing there, I might have thrown it out if it hadn't. And I'd definitely regret that if I had. Especially now. “You know how I like my romantic gestures.”

Rose laughs. And it's the way I always used to make her laugh. Before things got complicated. Before things were broken. As if nothing's in need of mending at all.

It's comforting to hear.

“You look really nice by the way,” I inform.

Rose furrows her brow for a second and looks at me like none of this is going how she pictured it. She seems content to be standing beside me instead of running ten steps ahead.

She sneaks a kiss to my cheek as the elevator dings and exits without saying a word. My smile spans ear to ear as I follow her out into the lobby.

As we wait for our ride, Rose looks over and asks, “So. What are we doing tonight: dinner and a movie?”

“Not quite.”

Rose lifts an eyebrow. “Then what?”

“You'll see.”

Dinner and a movie would not impress Rose.

She'd enjoy and appreciate it, but I don't just want Rose to enjoy tonight. I want her to _remember_ it. So I thought of the strangest date I could take her on. Not for the sake of being strange, but so that tonight would stand out. For us to do something new together. Because I want _us_ to be something new together.

Rose hesitates upon stepping out onto the sidewalk. Momentarily frozen while eyeing the axe throwing establishment we've arrived at. “Is this where we're going?”

“It'll be fun, trust me.”

Rose huffs out a single chuckle, “Alright then.”

She proceeds to send intrigued glances my way as we're shown to the lane I reserved for us—her head swiveling from one group to another and then back to me as the crashes of axes hitting targets argue over who can echo loudest.

Upon reaching our station, an employee runs us through a safety demo. And then it's just us and the open lane.

I take the lead before Rose can say a word, “You're up first. But don't worry, I'll walk you throw it.”

Rose agrees, without acknowledging my pun, and soon we're standing at the red and white throw line for an aiming lesson. My front snugly tucked into Rose's back.

I, of course, do not have any experience throwing axes. But I Googled it earlier—and even watched the first half of a Youtube video titled _Pro Axe Throwing Tips_ —so obviously I'm a credible instructor at this point.

How hard could it really be to execute anyway?

Plus, I'm craving closeness to Rose like none other. So if pretending to be a master axe thrower is what it takes to get some contact right now, best believe I'm gonna do it.

“Okay, step one: square your hips,” I pivot Rose's waist until her hips are parallel to the throw line. My hands may or may not linger there afterwards.

Rose inches away, looks back over her shoulder and scans my face—her lips pressed into a calculating grin. “Got it. What next?”

“Step two: leg placement.” My hand runs along her thigh, lightly squeezing as I continue, “You'll want to stand with your left leg forward, knee slightly bent, and your right leg extended just behind you.”

Rose slowly starts to question, “How do you—”

“Step three: hand placement. And this part is key, so pay attention.”

The corner of Rose's mouth turns up again. “Go on.”

“Left hand at the bottom of the axe, right hand above it. Both thumbs pointed up.”

“Like this?” she asks, holding the axe up for me to see.

“Kinda. Here—” I lean in closer to align her thumbs as shown in the video earlier, my cheek brushing against hers in the process.

Butterflies spring to life, which I allow to do their thing. Attempts to stifle them would be futile.

Rose's hands are ghost white. “You're gripping too tightly. Relax.” My face turns inward, “What—you nervous?”

She stutters, “N-no, I'm focusing.”

I smirk. She's definitely nervous, and it's adorable. “Good, then on to step four: the wind up. Start by leaning forward, then rock backwards. Make sure you bring the axe back enough to get some power in your throw.”

My fingers trace up Rose's triceps, slowly bending her arms up and over us to demonstrate the proper form.

She lets out a shaky breath.

Her voice replays in my head—from this morning when she said she'd be ready for me and then again when she reiterated the sentiment this afternoon in her hotel room. Like she wants to make sure I know she delivers on her promises.

Power shifts with Rose are nothing short of intoxicating. Whether the submission is intentional or subconscious on her part, it's equally satisfying on the receiving end.

If only I could reward her for being on time..

I clear my throat, willing mental clarity to follow. “That's perfect, bring those chiseled arms back until your elbows are bent at ninety degrees.”

Another look in my direction, this one searing into me as I run my hands down her arms and then along her sides, eventually landing back at her hips. A wave of heat flushes up my neck, a hint of Rose's canine visible as it pinches the inside of her bottom lip.

The clamoring of sharp edges striking wooden backboards is the only thing preventing me from kissing her right here and now.

“Uh, that brings us to step five: release.”

Rose shifts against me and my heart beats it's way right up into my eardrums.

I press on, “Propel yourself forward and let go of the axe once your arms straighten out.. should be just above forehead level.”

“Got it?” I ask, backing away a few paces. Not just because I've completed the lesson, but out of necessity.

Rose swallows as she flicks her eyes up from my lips, “Um.. yeah. Think so.” She assumes the throwing stance as instructed.

I try to ease the tension for both our sakes. We are about to start launching weapons across the room, after all. “Oh, almost forgot the most important thing.”

Rose looks back as though ready to make a mental note.

“Have fun,” I say with a wink.

Rose nods, winds up and throws. It's not good. It's not good at all. The handle hits the wood frame first, sending the axe ricocheting off the wall and thudding onto the padded floor mats below. Even if it had hit correctly to stick, it would've been well below the outer ring of the target.

She retreats to our table, grumbling something instincts tell me I'd get a kick out of on her way over. Unfortunately, I can't make any of it out.

“It's okay, just watch,” I say, “I'll show you how it's done and you'll get it next time.”

Rose responds with something, but I miss it again. This time because I'm re-running through all the steps in my head. I buy some time with a couple stretches and practice swings, catching Rose's eyes on my arms when I glance over.

This is it: my time to shine. This is precisely the type of scenario in which my hand-eye coordination pays off most.

I wind up and throw. It feels off from the moment I let go. I get distracted at the last second and rotate to the point where my axe sails so far right it smashes into the post of the metal fencing separating our lane from the one next to us. A large gouge will serve as longstanding proof of my mishap.

It's not just the visual that's humiliating, either. It's the shock wave of sound. It's the way the guy removing his axe from the center of the target in the next lane over jumps as though he fears he might lose a limb. It's the way the lattice patterned portion of the fence continues to taunt me as it relentlessly jingles back and forth for several excruciating seconds. As if the initial collision wasn't bad enough.

I apologize profusely to the guy I've emotionally scarred, and then assure the employee asking if I need assistance that I've got it covered and just need to “clear out the cobwebs.”

Considering mine is the only readily visible mark in the thick metal pole, it doesn't seem like people get it _this_ wrong very often.

When I do head back to our table, Rose can be found with her face hidden under her hand, as though shielding herself from the abundance of embarrassment by association I'm sensing.

“So that was obviously an example of what not to do.”

Rose surfaces into full view. “You've never done this before, have you?” she asks, the light dancing in her eyes.

But the jig is up.. fun while it lasted. “No, absolutely not,” I inform, sliding into the seat next to her. “Fooled you though, right?”

Our eyes meet and not a second later, Rose bursts into laughter—emitting a snort that makes me crack up beside her.

“You're in rare form today,” she finally says after regaining composure and wiping away the tear streaks on her face.

Every time we pass to take turns throwing thereafter, there's a gleam in her eye. And a spark of energy passing between us. One that makes my heart flutter each and every time we brush by. We laugh at the embarrassing throws, high-five to celebrate the not as horrible ones, eat nachos, sip cocktails, and before I know it, our two hours is almost up.

By the end, Rose has managed to hit the intended target a handful of times, albeit nowhere near the bullseye, and I've only put the one gash in the fencing—plenty for us both to be proud of, I'd say.

And perhaps my mind's been subconsciously tallying all the smiles and laughs out of Rose tonight, because there's this moment in the ride back where it dawns on me we've reached some sort of threshold. Where I'm on my way not just to the hotel, but to really making things right.

She's sitting as close to me as possible, holding my hand in her lap, making jokes about us being natural axe throwers. According to her, I should sign up for a competition, and who knows, I might even be able to make a real go of things once I'm done with soccer and can give it my full attention.

There's this warmth in her eyes, and even though she's teasing me, it's there in her voice too. There's no need for worry, or panic, or wondering what the hell's going to happen next.

Today's the most present I've been in months. And if I'm right—if I've started making it up to her—I'm determined to keep doing it, every day, so long as she'll let me.

Back at the hotel, I accompany Rose to her room to drop her off. As a gentlewoman should.

“Thanks for tonight,” she says, setting her bag on the counter, "I had a great time.”

“Good, you deserve it.”

She wrinkles her nose and then pulls her lips to one side, pausing there for a moment before leaning in and kissing me.

Just the once. Afterwards giving me the sweetest, most sincere smile I've ever seen grace her lips.

I resist the urge to kiss her again so I can soak that smile up. Commit it to memory. But I'm only human, and after a couple seconds, I simply can't wait any longer.

One hand finds her waist, the other trails along her cheek—edging her closer once it reaches her jawline.

And it's not merely a meeting of mouths or minds this time, but rather a meeting of souls. As though we've finally chipped away, layer by layer—through all the bullshit, defensive barriers, and character flaws—to the point where we can really see each other. Even now, with our eyes closed.

Rose runs her tongue along mine and I'm dizzy from the head rush it generates.

Time doesn't pass linearly anymore, it ceases to exist entirely, along with all of the extraneous knowledge previously clogging my brain.

Now I only seeRose. I only know Rose. I only want Rose.

My heart's racing so fast it'd put Seabiscuit to shame. I'm both fully clothed and completely naked—shivering like I've accidentally wandered out into a winter storm when Rose works her hand around to rest at the nape of my neck.

It's perfectly possible. That I'm out in the cold. Antarctica even. I've completely lost track of my location, as well as where I end and Rose begins.

She steadies me though, somehow. She centers me against herself. She finds me in the wilderness and brings me home.

There's no rush. Nothing to prove, nothing to run from. And we take it slow, savoring every bit of it. If I have it my way, I'll always remember how she's kissing me—as though there's never been a more meaningful thing for her to do.

When we eventually part for air, neither of us says a word. As if we wouldn't dare risk tainting what we shared by speaking.

Her chest rises and falls rapidly. Her neck is tantalizing. I want to make her feel the best she's ever felt.

My mouth is on her again in a flash. Starting at her clavicle, steadily moving upwards. She whimpers, urging me onward. I've never been more certain of my next move.

But the booming voices and stomping of strangers in the hallway recall me to reality.

The world again exists. And so does time.

_Time.._

The team chill session would be ending soon, if it hasn't already. And God, Becky would totally combust if she were to walk in on us in the midst of “activities.”

Silent blinking is the only movement in the room until I shift side to side—digging a hand in my pocket. “I should probably head back.”

Rose glances at the clock. “Suppose you're right,” she says, my disappointment mirrored all over her face.

We're back to quiet as we mosey to the door. I try to tell her she's the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. Because it's true. But I simply can't muster up the words—still caught in the haze cast from our kiss.

“Goodnight Rose,” is all I can manage, and only barely if I'm honest. Voice light and airy. Words breathed more than spoken—giving way to a tiny grin.

The corners of Rose's eyes crinkle as she replies in kind, “Goodnight Emily.”

I guess sometimes two smiles and four words are enough.

Rose shows up to breakfast the next day and immediately heads over. She sits beside me and lightly pokes my leg with what I soon discover to be the scissors I forgot in her room—asking if I'm trying to tell her something by leaving them behind when my hand covers hers to retrieve them.

I slide the scissors into my bag and retort back that it was an honest mistake. That shenanigans of that sort never quite cut it.

And after a beat, we're laughing again.

Maybe, if we're lucky, last night hasn't ended. Maybe we just paused—and are picking up exactly where we left off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Feel free to leave any thoughts!


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